#╰ ･ ANDREI ✱ ∶ this is how the arrow hunts the hunter¸ whispering solitude as it flies.

[venalier]

“bogworms’ brains,” caeldori swears to herself under her breath. if only she’d left just a few days earlier! then she could’ve been out there with the rest of them on the field, measuring her skill and strategic studies against her peers. a few wins, or even the grand trophy! — would’ve been the perfect accomplishment to include in her first letter home, convincing her father that her decision to come and complete her time here was far from a waste!

what she didn’t want to tell him was that there were people she was hoping to see again, too.

“andrei, there you are!” there he is prone in the healer’s camp just like she’d been told. the excitement of an old fr— ally? ... pleasant acquaintance? — overruns any concern about his injuries for now. there’d be nothing crippling from the battle of eagle and lion, anyway.

she tries ( and mostly succeeds! ) at fighting back a smile, not wanting to look overeager about something as simple as a familiar face. but there’s an energy to her step that betrays her as she draws up beside him, ignoring the glances of clerics and passersby. “i was looking all over for you. i've come back. i hope you've been well. and what’s this about you having a pegasus now?”

   ♡   //   @ulircursed

[venalier]

while she's lost, drowning in her own recollection, andrei fills in the silence that threatens to swallow them both. ( haven't they done this before? staved off horror with talk? there was a forest trail . . . and kinshi. )

the heartening words lift her eyes that had fallen to some dusty corner of the dining hall, coax a choking smile out of her: fleeting, but genuine. leave it to andrei to know just what to say. " . . . you're right."

caeldori sits up a little straighter, remembering now not only the dread she'd felt at the beginning of the fight, but the strength too that'd seized her during it, how the elation of power had electrified her like a north wind — overwhelming; nauseatingly vindicating — when the sword in her hand had effortlessly severed the titan from life and toppled it, silently, like a tower of cards. even if it had only been a training illusion, which did, she has to admit, take some of the achievement out of it, it's still true that she'd overcome it. not any weaker than it'd first been when they had faced it for real, in that city beneath the earth, but she had been stronger.

and this time too, she'd be stronger. of that she's sure. ( sure? ) she'd trained hard the last year, mastered countless new techniques — maybe all for this.

' become so strong you need no aid, ' professor rafal had urged. and she thought, yes, if she could reach that pinnacle of perfection, then she would be ready for anything. she'd have to live no more nightmares.

( . . . but would it be enough? a voice, quiet, still whispers. still wonders. would she be strong enough? )

coral-colored irises rest on andrei's, whose voice, she thinks, falters a little with an uncertainty of its own when it speaks again. and she is seized with the urge to reach out, 　　　— and she doesn't — but to reach out and reassure him. about what? . . . she's not sure. it's this recognition of her hubris that stops her, blessedly. ( how embarrassing that'd be, if she just touched his hand for no reason. )

instead, she clears her throat, pushes down the quickening behind her ribs. already the worst of the grey clouds have been dispelled by his confidence and comfort, and it's only right to give some of it back. "how horrible." a low remark to the idea of the illusory arena drawing inspiration somehow from their collective memories . . .

but then, a smile: like the unfurling of a camellia.

"well, i hope the next time it happens, real or in training, that you're there with me again."

a beat. "if nothing else, belle would probably be happy to see you."

" . . . . . . alligator monster was new, though. it had to be the toughest enemy i've ever faced yet, at least. but there was a trick to it. as soon as that was clear, the rest wasn't so bad."

she'd looked for andrei almost as soon as everything was over, second only to looking for sir— er, kent. ( and mostly out of shyness, if she's to be honest. but seeing that he hadn't run her off when she'd found him was enough to make her feel better about talking to him. her heart beats just a little quicker. )

"anyway, i just wanted to find you and tell you . . . because," voice quiets, " . . . you were there, that time. so, you know how it went."

the titanus. its greatsword, the size and heft of mountains. its crushing force, the oppressive weight of the limitless space around them. unconsciously, caeldori's fingers tighten in the fabric of her sleeve, recalling the cycles upon cycles she's been back there in her dreams, geometric, brilliant blue lines running perpedicular across her periphery. " . . . do you still remember all that? tagzig? that strange machine we fought in the caves together?" a soft, pinched laugh, though not entirely humorless — if only because there was little else to greet the memory with save that and despair. and maybe to be sure she wasn't the only one. to be sure she wasn't crazy.

"i wondered. well, this ' arena ' was gifted to the school by the elementals. but where do they get these monsters, these ones we've only met in nightmares and fairytales? i heard some of the others even encountered the cervid . . . "

"...I do remember."

Too well, sometimes. In those dark, sleepless nights where his past plays out in the darkness, he recalls their fight together within the cavern, yes, but then, inevitably...

(A pegasus and a brave knight of the sky, cut down from the air by one swing of a great, shadowed sword. An archer, powerless to save the life of the first person he had come to call a friend.)

And yet, just as he had been, she too is given a chance to overturn the hands of fate. The curse and blessing of this land, to repeat their battles again and again and again, and perhaps, given fortitude, to find a different outcome. Andrei's voice is quiet, tremulous beneath the weight of the emotion pressing upon his words as he speaks next.

"But you've now emerged victorious. You faced the same peril, and you've overcome, this time."

He's struck, then, with the mad urge to reach out, to place his hand upon hers, as though to remind her, to remind himself, that she is still here. That what had happened in the past in this strange land is capable of being overturned, that their memories were all that's left of that time. That yes, they had faced it together, and that they would continue to face what comes in the future.

Except... no. The thought recoils from his mind nearly as soon as it enters. Caeldori is not Edain, not family for him to childishly cling to when his weakness dictates it. She is not even Lady Deirdre, to whom the trappings of etiquette seem all but meaningless. Caeldori is also of noble upbringing, and the thought of such an action will always be an absurd one. Has a few short years in Fódlan stripped him even of the propriety that he'd once taken such pride in?

The other topic she brings up is much safer (and truly, why did he not stick with this to begin with?), and after an unsteady pause, he latches onto it with the haste of one struggling to find solid ground to stand upon.

"The— the enemies that we fought were all unfamiliar to me," he says, "Though it is certainly possible they were conjured from the memories of another in our team. This arena must have been powered by our minds to some extent." After all, unlike the Projectionist's version within the storybook, they'd emerged from these trials without a single physical wound to show for it, despite how real the sensation of weaponry and spells had felt in the moment.

[venalier]

EYES WIDEN IN SUBTLE VERMILION HUE. andrei, tasked with going out...? she thinks immediately of the arrows that'd ambushed mitama and herself, their narrow escape diving messily from the sky, and ambient frustration mixes with the inherent indignation of sending him out into those traps. eyes follow the direction of his gesture ; she hears the halting of his speech. when he ends it with a line like that, something about it stings more than she expects.

she pushes to standing, wielding adamance like a spear. "then i've decided: i'm coming with you, and i'm flying. and before you try to stop me with anything else about ' putting me in needless danger ', it only makes sense. i've trained with pegasi before i could walk, and i've picked up a few techniques lately that help with avoiding arrows, too."

really, she's tired of being tucked away. hadn't she done enough of that——being good and waiting patiently for it to be safe——for eighteen years? when had it ever been " safe enough "?

(⠀really, it just feels like rejection.⠀)

she continues, purposely not letting him get a word in edgewise. "andrei, meet toyotama. she's a hoshidan tenma, which is a little different from most kinds of pegasi. for one, they have no issue with male riders. she might look a little smaller than you're used to, but i assure you she's more than capable of carrying both of us at top speed."

the tenma in question, for her part, doesn't seem to care about andrei's presence or her rider's urgency, head low to the ground to nose at the coat brush left abandoned on the stool as if to indicate there was no reason the combing ought to have stopped. "unless you have a better idea," arms fold across her chest, eyes meeting his, "but i'm not as familiar with flying the others into a field of arrows besides belle."

like icarus we fly

⤷    mission board: anniversary 2024 — flying +1

[venalier]

work has ever been the balm for the disquieted spirit. . . . or something like that; she's pretty sure she read that line in a romance novel somewhere once. —which! is definitely not what this is.

but the sky knight can't deny the number of sighs that escape her while she works.

and maybe this is why, at some point, she gets a firm bump on the head from the nose of one of the horses she's cleaning, enough to startle her from her concentration. after spending more than fifteen minutes wrangling the stallion in forty-seven she'd been told about even with the sugar cubes, it's an unwelcome interruption. "hey! what's that for?" brow purses up at the spotted gelding ( slow dancer. she's always thought the name was a clever one, albeit a bit girly for him if anyone asked her — and his coat lovely every time she's seen him ), who pretends to be disinterested now, nosing at some hay sticking out of the feed.

. . . animals, really.

a while later, carrying tools and covered in a mild sheen of sweat, she makes her way back to the center of the row, feeling grateful that the rest at least hadn't given her much trouble. a smile lifts to see andrei already there — and caeldori hastens her step, buckets jangling. "usually i'm the one finished first when i do these chores with someone else. this is a nice change of pace. i hope i didn't keep you waiting."

plunk. something cool lands on her head— and when she looks up, it's to the sight of suddenly grey-blanketed skies. huh? it'd been only partly cloudy a couple hours ago. "is it— raining?" other hand instinctively stretches out palm-up, but she's already regretting the amount of work they won't be able to finish. at the very least, the kinshi were going to hole themselves up somewhere as dry as possible, and definitely wouldn't want to be looked at in this weather. and exercising the horses . . . if only there was some indoor track or ring to at least get them moving.

"let's get all this cleaned up before it starts coming down." purposeful motions re-gather brooms, picks, and the like with speed, urging them both toward the tool shed; she steals a glance at andrei along the way in case he had other ideas. "i guess the horses will just have to wait a little longer. but — ugh, hm . . . maybe we can manage it if it's only a drizzle?" hard to say if it'd stay that way, having come on so suddenly.

the sun and moon like a shuttle

[venalier]

listening to andrei describe his experience, caeldori doesn't think much of it until he expressly notes the staff his opponent had been holding. and even then still, she listens, taking for granted the idea of a priestess channeling magic through a staff— until she comes to with a jarring realization: ' hold on, that's odd here, isn't it? '

over a brief span of two seconds, her face moves through a series of increasingly bewildered expressions before she finally finds something to land on.

"the rod, did it look—"

but hastily glancing about reveals no means by which she can model or exemplify what she has in mind, and she abandons the thought of sketching a quick drawing as too much for something so small. "nevermind. it sounds like something from hoshido, called a festal. when you said ' priestess ', is that what she said she was? that's also what we'd call the ones who use them too." people of the church here usually didn't use that term exactly, right? she recalls ' cleric ' or ' bishop ', though maybe she's misremembering. either way, it feels like a particular choice of words. "you might've fought someone from my father's homeland! i haven't met many others here myself."

     “...Dark magic,” Andrei says, lips curling in distaste at the memory of the fight. He’d never liked fighting magic users, even in Jugdral — though to be fair, between Isaach and the single battalion he’d faced in Silesse, he’d never had much occasion to in a life-or-death situation — but it is a far cry from the negative experiences he’d amassed since coming to Fódlan. It almost feels like every magic user he’d ever faced here, from enemies to those in mock battles, had been capable of landing devastating hits on him no matter what he tried to do.

     He thinks back to the opponent he’d faced on the field. “My opponent was dressed more the part of a priestess than anything, despite her use of Reason magic,” he notes. It’s not a surprise; surely everyone would seek to bring every advantage to a battle like this, and the offensively stronger reason magic would only serve them well. “She carried an odd staff, even though she didn’t use it. A golden rod with long white tassels.” It looked unlike any healing staff he’d ever seen before, but given how mages here are mostly expected to cast without a conduit, it hadn’t escaped his notice.

[venalier]

had she ever seen him smile like that? ... a lot had changed while she'd been gone, huh. ignoring the out-of-place heat climbing on her own face, she dismisses the moment of stunned surprise and refocuses. "so you decided to try it for yourself? i'm glad to hear it. but i hope you don't think that means you'll be besting me anytime soon." a challenging, playful smirk. "and i guess that means i can't get comfortable with my own training either."

if it really was because of her and belle though, that just made her want to see what he'd learned even more. she'll admit — with how stiff he'd been behind her in the saddle that time, she'd never have thought he'd take to flying of his own free will.

"oh, speaking of archery."

twisting an arm back, she starts unholstering something strapped across her back, presenting it to him a moment later. it would resemble something like a short box-like basket with a leather-lattice jutting up from its back if not for the five fletched arrows sticking out and bound to the back with cord that identified it as a quiver. it's finely lacquered in black and gold, front and sides painted with a swirling dragonfly design. "this is for you — a kari-ebira. it's the kind of quiver that's used in hoshido, and that i had before coming here. i'm sure you probably have plenty of your own that work better for you, but even if you just use it as a decoration, i'd like if you'd accept it."

"father spoke with the school, and i was allowed to bring my own tenma this time too. maybe you can meet her sometime."

If left to his own choice, Andrei would receive whatever quick treatment offered before slinking back to the Abyss, allowing his wounds and his pride to recover in darkness and solitude. The monastery's concept of 'proper medical procedure' had different ideas, though, and he's laid down on a cot in the tent, awaiting discharge. The thoughts of the earlier, disappointing battle run through his mind as he stares wordlessly at the ceiling of the tent, at least until the sound of his name draws his attention.

Caeldori?! Ignoring the fire in his injured arm, Andrei pushes himself upright in an attempt to be as presentable as possible, legs swinging over the edge of the cot. A few healers look over, but make no move to stop him. "As well as I can be," he answers her question wryly, though he couldn't help a genuine smile lighting his features at her presence, and his next words come sincere. "I am glad you've returned. I trust everything was well with your home and family?"

At the mention of his pegasus, the archer pauses, heat seeping up his neck unbidden. Not a question he's prepared to answer, really. Because of you sounds improper on too many levels, even if the truth is exactly so. "It's merely... well, flying on Belle hadn't been... too bad, as far as first experiences go," he says evasively. A bold claim, given their ordeal in Tagzig, but the small moments of camaraderie in between the dangers had given the experience irreplaceable meaning anyhow. "Flying itself is enjoyable, though lancemanship doesn't come nearly as naturally to me as archery," he admits.

[venalier]

FOR THE THIRD TIME IN AN HOUR, toyotama shuffles and swishes her tail and throws her a disapproving eye. caeldori audibly tsks as she sets down the hoofpick again, trying to will her shoulders her relax. "sorry, sorry. ugh, maybe we should just do this tomorrow." . . .these last few days have been getting to her. between that stupid paint fight, the horses being shot out of the sky, and the adjustment to being at the academy again, she's barely had time to collect her thoughts. and it's probably showing.

"okay, tomorrow then. i'll at least brush you down though. it's not like hoshido here ; who knows what you'll catch around all these animals if you're not careful." the mare twists her head around to scratch at a spot under her wing, and caeldori heaves a sizable sigh as she rummages in the supply bucket for her homemade tools——only to hear her name called.

"hm?"

the sunlight backlighting the figure in shadow makes it hard to make them out, but it's the long flaxen hair that stands out first. andr. . . ? she blinks and he steps further in, confirming the distinct, narrow features and forest-green eyes, looking just as surprises as she is to see him. the way he says she's back again makes heat creep up beneath her collar, so she turns back to the bucket and makes some useless show of rearranging things in it before setting it aside, only for her lips to pinch at the next thing he says instead.

". . . yes, i have. and i tried to stop them before." the descending note of frustration says it well enough: obviously, it didn't work. she rises, for an interjected second more worried about acknowledging him properly first. "sorry, i meant to find you earlier. i just, er. . . "

. . . how to explain? when one of the first things she'd heard after coming back had been about the last ethereal ball, and. . .

". . .had trouble finding the time. but there's something i still want to give you later." omiyage, after all, should always be honored regardless. but it's only then, thoughts and gaze lingering on him, that caeldori realized how he's dressed. bow and arrow, ready for something. and in the stables? "are you going somewhere? i can fly you, if you need it."

like icarus we fly

⤷    mission board: anniversary 2024 — flying +1

[venalier]

andrei's answer has her pursing her lips at first, thinking it sounded like he was dismissing her too, suggesting she focus on smaller things so that the big issues could keep going unaddressed. but then she takes a deeper breath — in . . . out. he probably means better than that — and thinks about it a little more deeply, and she guesses he does have a point. she'd volunteered here to help with the stable chores that need doing, not to solve their animal housing problems. ( though she still thinks she might as well do both, since she's here. )

actionable tasks first. it makes sense. even if it still feels like stalling.

but andrei's smile helps too — quiet and encouraging and a little clumsy like it's always been, but always a little more comforting to her because of it, for reasons she's not completely sure herself. ". . . the second and third rows of horses need their hooves picked," she finally says after a sigh, directing toward the mentioned area with an arm, "and the fourth row needs to be taken out and exercised. one of the riding professor's been out this week, so a few of them haven't been out since two days ago."

half-turning to look at him with a calmer expression now: "i'll start with the hoof-cleaning from one end and you take the other?" it does feel better to have a goal in sight at least — any goal, even something small. "oh, and i was warned to watch out for lola silks, the auburn in twenty-three. she doesn't like her feet touched, and might give us some trouble with that. and after that, i was going to check the kinshi's feathers myself." she doesn't want to say that she doesn't quite trust the handlers here to care for them up to hoshido's standards, but.

. . . she feels like there's something more she should say. don't think i'm letting go of the stabling situation? i'll think more on what to do about the wolf problem? none of it feels right.

oh. "thank you for coming to help today though, andrei." though it sounds like lip service, she says it genuinely — and means it, with a smile and an earnest ring of gratitude and happiness as she grabs one of the nearby pails laden with brushes and sponges. having him around always makes her feel better, whether it's a walk through the forest, making friendship bracelets, or stable chores. "we've never been on an assignment together before." was that weird? the way she said ' together ' ? —ugh. say something safe, caeldori. "i'm looking forward to working with you."

the sun and moon like a shuttle

[venalier]

another failed discussion. disheartened and frustration starting to build, she stares at the door to the stable house the woman had just gone inside, leaving her back at square one with no workable solution in sight. it's nothing like her time in the army — though caeldori had never imagined she'd call anything about being in a war easier than studying at an academy; there, her standing and expertise had taken her far, and just about everyone had trusted her judgment without much question. but here, she oftentimes felt like the things she offered fell on completely deaf ears.

back then, she still recalls a conversation she'd had with shiro once, annoyed that they seemed to get all their accolades from nepotism. she can't believe she almost wishes she had some of that, now.

"huh?"

in the midst of these thoughts, the sound of her name in a smiling voice turns her around, and the sky knight's heart skips a beat at the sight of a long-familiar face recently scarce. "... andrei!" the last time they'd talked had been after the battle of the eagle and lion, when she'd just come back. and after that . . . she's been wondering where he'd gone — some extended mission from the academy? no, that didn't sound right.

for some reason, she flushes at his question, her own answer coming uncharacteristically timorous. "actually, i just volunteered. they're still short on people who are familiar with the kinshi, so..." there was lady sakura, but she doesn't even want to think about her father's horrified face to hear that she hadn't taken care of something as menial as stable management well before hoshido's princess got involved. and lord azama, but . . . ah, he was often occupied with other things.

anyway, she doubts andrei wants to hear about all that.

"right now, the problem is that the wolves are stressing out all the others, from the horses to the kinshi. even the wyverns aren't this bad." and she's not completely sure why herself; she'd hoped to get the chance to ask one of the elyos natives for some advice, but hasn't gotten the chance. all she's learned from asking around so far is that not everyone from elyos knows much about them; she should be looking for someone from ' solm '.

"i don't think there's any way around it but rearranging the stables, even building separate enclosures. but the administration is adamant that they don't have the means for that . . . " though they were certainly affording to keep importing animals they couldn't properly care for.

the sun and moon like a shuttle

[venalier]

ulircursed:

     “You...” Eyes widen at the gift, and Andrei reaches out, taking it in his lap and trailing fingers along the open frame. It’s extremely lightweight compared to the quivers he is accustomed to, though, in the hands of an expert, its design will likely increase draw speed and maneuverability. He looks up at Caeldori. “Thank you. I will learn to use it,” he says firmly, “Perhaps we might have a chance to practice together. It would be an honor to see you fighting truly in your element.”       A shame that he hadn’t known of her arrival beforehand, or he could have prepared something for her as well. By the rules of courtly etiquette, it should be so. No gift is without its implicit purpose, always intending for its price to be paid back by something else, material or otherwise. But then again, Caeldori has never treated him as though she expected something like that of him, and nobility hasn’t ever been a topic they had discussed. For that matter, he doesn’t treat Caeldori like he would any typical noble either.      He treats her like...      Andrei hastens to change the subject before embarrassment could tighten its grip on him once more. "It is unfortunate you did not arrive just a few days earlier,” he says instead, “The Black Eagle class would doubtlessly benefit from having you amongst its ranks.” Well, his own lacking performance aside, it seems the class is doing fine regardless from what he’s gleaned between passing conversation within the medical tent. It doesn’t take away from the truth of the sentiment. “I’ve little doubt you would’ve fared better against the mage I was facing, at the very least,” he exhales slowly, indicating his bandaged wounds with a slight twitch of his arm.

it is unfortunate she hadn't gotten here faster; the tiny huff through her nose gives away her agreement as much ( unthinking, for the moment, how much more childish the reaction made her seem — for some reason, even though they'd met under serious circumstances, that'd never seemed to carry over into whatever... er, friendship? had developed after the fact ). "well, there's always next year," she eventually lands on graciously. it just meant she would have to train that much harder until then and show off the gains she'd made when the time came; when looked at like that, the loss became instead an opportunity to look forward to — the thought returns the smile back to her lips.

which isn't mirrored on andrei's own.

caeldori follows the look in his eye back down to his bandaged injuries. "not exactly. it's true sky kn— er, pegasus knights are known for being stronger against magic, but even among them, my resistance isn't the greatest." maybe it's something we could improve at together, she almost adds, but catches the words as they're about to tumble out and swallows them, flushing when she realizes how silly they sound. how would something like that even work, anyway — they both stand there in a firing line and get pelted with spells for an afternoon?

to cover for the near-blunder, she asks instead: "what kind of magical opponents were you facing? maybe that had a hand in it."