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11th of the Harpstring Moon, Year 1180 Month 5
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Wood colliding with metal could be heard as Aster entered the training yard on the Officer's Academy's free day of the week. Most students were socializing or partaking in indulgences, but not this one. He needed to be prepared for anything that came his way.
Felix Hugo Fraldarius was a warrior, through and through. He didn't stop even when Aster entered and started watching him. For a student, he was good. Practiced, just like Sylvain was with his lance. Unlike Sylvain, however, it was clear that Felix took the time to make his practiced forms his own. He was a natural swordsman.
Eventually, he finished his training regimen and took a breath, relaxing his form very slightly. "So, are you going to just stand there like a shadow, or are you going to train?"
"We need to talk," Aster said bluntly.
"I don't have time to talk. I'm busy, as you can tell."
Aster stared at him as he started back up. "...You know who I am."
"The Black Eagles' professor," he answered, annoyed that she was still there.
"Byleth, the Ashen Demon, of the Blade Breakers."
That made him stop again. He finally looked over and sized her up. "The Boar Prince has spoken about you. I'd thought your performance in the mock battle was uncharacteristic of the soft cubs that the academy attracts."
"I've piqued your interest?"
"You have," a rare smile, if faint, formed on the boy's lips.
She held up a finger. "A wager. We spar. If I win, you tell me what I want to know. If you win…"
His smile faded. "If I win…?"
Aster walked over and picked up a practice blade. "You won't," she said, not finding a need to provide him an incentive. She knew his type; the eager-to-prove-themselves type; he would just want a chance to fight her. Her confidence further pushed him into that, if anything.
The two stood in their stances, Aster's more relaxed than the younger boy's. He struck first, getting into a fierce exchange with the former mercenary. She parried most of his blows, though she avoided the last few altogether as they became more frantic. She side-stepped his last vertical slash and slapped his back with the flat of her blade, making him stumble forward. He glared her way, but she just stared at him.
Felix took a deep breath, shoulders dropping from their tense, raised position. Then, he assumed a different stance; a defensive one. This time, he would wait for her. Aster obliged.
She took a swift step forward and stabbed toward his face. He slapped her blade away with his own and moved to strike at her, but she pivoted into a spin on her back foot, face nearly skimming the ground to avoid the arc of his sword, as she brought her opposite foot into the boy's face, stunning him. "Gah!" he stumbled backwards, hand going to where she'd struck him. In that time, she brought her sword up to his throat. With that, she'd won. "That i-isn't-" immovable Felix was at a loss for words.
"Not very knightly?" the slightest hint of a smirk came onto Aster's face, which Felix didn't appreciate. He shoved her sword away from his neck, but didn't make to retaliate. If nothing else, he kept his word.
"What do you want?" he spat, clearly dissatisfied with his quick loss.
"Tell me about Sylvain. You know him well, yes?"
"He's an idiot. What else is there to tell?"
"Details, if you bothered to remember them."
"Tch," he clicked his tongue. "I'm guessing he got pissy about his crest again?" Aster nodded. "The kid needs to grow up. He only uses his family name and crest to get girls. He's obsessed with it, of that thrill. That makes it infuriating whenever he gets like this. He loves the benefits, but can't handle what they come with."
"That they only want him because of his crest."
"Exactly," Felix said. "He needs to either stop using it as a crutch, or start to consider what his name and crest actually mean for him."
"He seemed resentful about both when we spoke."
"Did he?" Felix feigned surprise. "That crest of his gives him awesome power; he's basically unkillable since it can heal any wound so long as he has the resonance for it. But what does he use it for? To chase skirts," he spat. "But that's not what crests are for. They were given to certain people for a reason. Those of us with crests have a responsibility to help people. That's what he needs to understand."
Well, Felix was a devotee of the Church, alright. One of their main principles dealt with responsibilities, debts, and promises.
"I don't think he wants the responsibility," Aster said blankly.
"Well, that's his problem," Felix crossed his arms and turned away. "That bastard can do so much good, but he's so obsessed with his crest. I get that it's given him a hard life, but that's no excuse to keep failing so many of his people."
Aster nodded. "...If you ever want to spar again, let me know," she said, turning away and exiting the yard.
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12th of the Harpstring Moon, Year 1180 Month 5
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"I'm sure you all know about crests. They are odd, divine symbols that mark an individual upon birth. Their passing is based on bloodline, but is far from absolute. A father and a mother can have a crest, but their child only has a chance, and we don't yet know how it works in detail."
Aster paced back and forth as she read from the textbook. Personally, she thought that this stuff was far too abstract; this book wasn't giving the students any practical information. Still, this was one of a few areas that the Academy forced her to teach.
"Resonance is defined as 'the harmonious synchronization of two otherwise contrary or foreign powers.' This is how people manifest the supernatural power of magic, combat arts, and yes, crests. Resonance is not merely the manifestation of such powers, but a concept that is metaphysically literal," Aster paused, noting how stupidly contradictory that statement was. It sounded like an academic wrote it. She read on. "The bond between people has the potential to manifest physically. This is also considered 'Resonance', between these two people, whether working together or against one another."
"Professor," Aster looked up to see Edelgard raising her hand, eyes still on her notebook as she copied the information. "How does one know when they've achieved 'Resonance' with another person?"
Aster blinked. Truthfully, she was finding it difficult to describe, given that whenever it happened to her, she was always in a heightened emotional state which didn't exactly help in taking in all of the stimuli. "You're like a rainbow when it happens," she said, quickly moving on. "Resonance was once considered to be the reason that crests existed; one's blood was assumed to be tied to the various Heroes Relics, and their crest was just a visual representation of such. This has since been proven incorrect, as crests bear power aside from when attached to a Relic," she set her textbook on her desk. Aster couldn't bear to read anymore of that nonsense. "You all know this."
The Black Eagles all looked around, confused as to whether that was a question or a statement.
"How many of you can use magic or combat arts at will?" she asked. Dorothea, Linhardt, Edelgard, Hubert, and Ferdinand raised their hands. That left Caspar, Petra, and Bernadetta, of which only the latter held a crest. Still, those three being unable dictated that Aster needed to explain. She inwardly sighed, lamenting having to speak so much. "To use Resonance and its applications, your mind must be completely focused on the task you want done with it, and depending on what you want to do, you'll do that in different ways. Verbal commands, like the name of a spell or combat art, are used to elicit this concentration in everything, but for magic they're required. Most combat arts are able to be done without a chant, though its name or words of meaning or purpose can be used to make it easier for example, when using a Fayth Release," she explained.
"What's a Fayth Release?" Caspar wondered. Aster paused, mentally cataloguing yet another thing she'd have to explain to the children.
"You'll learn about them when I see fit," she answered, before finishing her lecture. "Using a crest's power is internal, so it's harder," she looked around at her students, half of which looked bored out of their minds at the explanation. "We'll go to the training yard for your weekly assignment."
The class wasted no time in heeding her command, for as bored as they were with her lecture. Aster followed after Edelgard, who, along with Hubert, were the last to leave. On her way out, Ignatz stopped in from the Golden Deer classroom. "Excuse me, professor," the boy offer a reserved smile, courtesy for a family of merchants. "Professor Hanneman requests your presence in his library as soon as possible."
Aster nodded. "Tell him it will be a few hours."
The boy bowed his head and moved to relay the message, leaving Aster to wonder what this meeting was about.
She wouldn't have to wait for very long. After she left her students for the day, she made her way to the meeting location. It looked like a standard, if small, library. The oddity in the layout was a surprising amount of space in its center; reserved for some kind of strange device. Of course it smelled like Hanneman, so being there wasn't very pleasant. It was a bit too musty for Aster's taste, which reminded Aster of the times when she was set to guard some stuffy nobleman who was paranoid was assassins, or when she had to rummage through a merchants old collection of goods to find a very specific item that they required during her service to them. Dust was the pervasive force in all cases. Hanneman was waiting for her, a grin showing beneath his facial hair.
"Ah, Byleth, I'm glad you could make it today. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if you'd come at all," he chuckled. Aster stared at him, waiting for the 'why' of his request. "I'll get straight to the point, then," he huffed. "I am a crest scholar, renowned as the foremost expert in the field, though I wouldn't go that far myself. Regardless, I do know a thing or two about them, and yet yours is a complete mystery to me."
"I never paid attention," she lied.
"Well, I suggest you start; this could be a major breakthrough in understanding the nature of crests!" he exclaimed, all but throwing his held book away in excitement. "Now, I'm not asking much, but I wish to study your crest during your tenure here at Garreg Mach. To that end, I need a bit of your blood."
Aster blinked, but obliged. She took out one of the knives she kept on her person and sliced her palm a bit, just enough to get a trickle. Hanneman, taken aback at her sudden response, scrambled to get a vial ready for her. "Anything else?" she asked, grabbing a towel from the desk—that Hanneman had prepared for this purpose, she assumed—and pressing it against her new wound.
"Well, its effects for one. I've rarely seen someone so naturally use one-hundred percent of their crest's power with Form Resonance without proper training. Your body was positively glowing with that crimson energy, and your eyes! So fierce, so focused."
Aster thought back. She rarely felt different when using her crest's power anymore. She'd almost trained her mind to completely ignore it, in fact. But if there was one thing…
"Time slows down," she said, considering. "...Other crests give more power. Mine doesn't."
"Ah, so your reaction speed and processing power are enhanced? Interesting…and perhaps more importantly, even with what looked like Form Resonance, you were unable to draw out any extra strength? Curious..." the older man was soon engrossed in thought, mindlessly pouring a drop of blood on the device in the center of the room, making a purple symbol appear in the air. Hanneman seemed excited about it for some reason and quickly put Aster out of his mind to work, leaving her essentially alone.
To Aster, all the mystery crest gave was a sense of uneasiness. That strange voice echoed in her mind. "So...it's returned, has it?"
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18th of the Harpstring Moon, Year 1180 Month 5
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"How much if I buy in bulk?" Aster questioned.
"10% discount," the merchant responded. Aster stared for a moment, contemplating, before nodding and handing over the gold. It was a pittance of what the Church allowed her to spend on school supplies, but gold wasted was never good.
Aster made her way down the street of the town that rested in the shadow of Garreg Mach. It was true that there was a marketplace within the monastery itself, but Aster wanted a change of pace. Perhaps it was fate.
As she walked to the north, she overheard of commotion in an alleyway she was about to pass. "Listen, rich boy, how about you hand over the woman and we can call it even."
"Hey, fellas, if you want to fight, I'd advise doing it with some drunkards over in the tavern across town. I won't have anything for you," Sylvain's voice could be heard. "So, how about we all calm down and leave each other be, yeah?"
"Oh, being cheeky, are we?"
Aster stopped in the middle of the alley entrance to see what was happening. A group of five burly men had cornered Sylvain, along with a young girl. Aster noticed a stack of wooden poles nearby, apparently useless for whatever construction they had been intended for, but perfect for Aster's purposes. She silently dropped her supplies and picked up one of the poles. "Sylvain!" the boy looked past his attackers to see Aster tossing him a weapon. He acted fast, grabbing it in both hands and deftly wielding it like a staff.
The thugs drew knives, but Sylvain had already swept two of them aside like it was nothing. The third quickly drew a knife and slashed Sylvain on the arm. The redhead snarled at the man, eyes glowing orange as his crest's power coursed through him; Partial Resonance. In an instant, Sylvain's new wound sewed itself shut without so much as a drop of blood. Once healed, he engaged the third man, warding off his knife blows.
Aster relied on her fists, bashing the remaining two thugs in the back of the head and them slamming her foot into one of the first two that Sylvain tossed aside. "Set them up for me, Professor!" Sylvain said, swatting three of them into a big clump. Aster caught on as his body glowed black; the color of resonance without the use of a crest. The mercenary bashed the remaining two into the clump, tripping them up as they tried to stand. Sylvain reared his weapon back. "Tempest Lance!" he called, voice gaining an otherworldly echo. He spun once as a step forward to gain momentum, and then released the strike, hitting all five thugs in a big burst of power, sending them flying into the street. Those that were still conscious crawled away, while guards came to take the rest.
The girl's eyes shone. "Sylvain! Oh, that was so brave!"
The boy smiled his usual smile, sticking his pole into the ground and leaning on it. "Nah, it was nothing."
"No, but the way you fought those guys was amazing!" she insisted.
"W-well, I, um…" the boy looked to Aster, who gave a smile and a nod. "I guess I just had a good teacher."
"Wow! I didn't know they could teach you how to use your crest like that!" And there it was. Sylvain's smile, fake or not, vanished in an instant. The girl was conscientious enough to notice. "Um, Sylvain…?"
"So, that's all that was to you?" his tone changed instantaneously. "A crest at work, huh? Bet you can't wait to see your little boys and girls running around glowing like me, huh?"
"W-what? Sylvain, that's not-"
"Well, sorry to say, but you're never going to get with me that easily. Why don't you run home like all the rest?"
The girl's eyes welled up with tears. "Fine, jerk!" she ran, tears streaming down her face. Sylvain huffed, face plastered with bitterness as he walked past Aster.
"She was trying to compliment you."
Sylvain took a deep breath and tried to put on his usual persona. "Can this not be a lecture? It is my free day, after all," he winked her way.
"Do you snap at every girl that mentions your crest?" his glare returned, rage seething behind a now-shaking form. This had clearly been building for a while. "You should work on that," Aster said, turning and picking up her supplies.
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Sylvain suddenly yelled. Aster turned back. "You're my professor, right? Aren't you supposed to help with this? Isn't that why I'm here, to learn how to become a better leader? How am I supposed to become a leader if I don't want to be one?!"
Sylvain hunched over, trying to regain breath from his outburst. "I'm not obligated to help you with your personal problems. I teach how to survive, and how to win battles. To that end, I helped you here as part of my duty. But becoming a leader is your job."
He took in a sharp breath, eyes alight with anger. "Duty…? Duty?!" he pointed accusatorily at Aster. "All that is is another word for 'debt'! But you don't owe me anything, just like I don't owe Faerghus or that bastard father of mine anything either!"
Aster narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to strike at her. To her shock, he managed to refrain himself, even in his seething anger. The adrenaline from the fight must have finally drained enough for him to regain some sense. A bit, at least.
"Maybe you're right," Aster acknowledged. "But if what you really want is freedom from your nonexistent debts, then you need to fight for it. Whining doesn't solve anything. I expect results."
Sylvain drew in another breath, but didn't say anything as Aster left him.
Author's Note:
Hey all! Not much to say on this one, just a standard progression of plot elements and introducing some of the concept of the magic system, as well as name-dropping future elements of it (don't worry it will all be explained before the end of this big part).
Thank you all for reading, Discord in my profile for questions, suggestions, and discussion, and I'll see you guys tomorrow!
