1 Harpstring Moon, 1178
Outside Caer Unig ("the Lonely Fort")
Cella von Ailell is not the type to fidget. She's definitely not the type to be visibly anxious. And she is most certainly not doing either of those things right now.
The young woman looks determinedly out over the mountain path in front of her, comforted by the imposing weight of the fortress at her back. They've been waiting for their visitors in silence for several minutes now, and the lack of anything happening is starting to get to her. She shifts her weight and rolls her neck, trying to discreetly work out the lingering soreness in her muscles. Her training session yesterday had been brutal.
"You're showing how nervous you are," the middle-aged man standing to her left notes in a rumbling voice. He turns his head slightly, still appearing to watch the path but pinning her with his gaze. "An Ailell shows no weakness to -"
"- those we do not trust with our lives. I know. I'm sorry Father, I am trying," she finishes, sighing inaudibly. Her back straightens and her brows smooth out, hiding her impatience and nervousness. Her father smiles at the shift, and he rests a hand on her shoulder.
"You're doing well. Have confidence in yourself, Cella," he says supportively. "Godfrey was a good man and he will be missed, but Duke Oswald seems confident that you and this grandson of his will get along well. Apparently he's quite the schemer," he continues dryly, and Cella smiles to herself at that.
Just then the first horse rounds the bend in the path laid out before them. Riding it is a man quite familiar to Cella, but it's the rider of the second horse she's more curious about. As the newcomers pull their horses to a stop and dismount in front of the father and daughter, Cella and her father step forward, offering the two men small bows.
"Tobin! It's good to see you - been too long old friend!" cries the rider of the first horse. He's an older man, but his limbs hold no frailty as he returns the bow, then embraces the man before him with a twinkle in his eye. Tobin awkwardly returns the hug, rolling his eyes toward Cella at the familiar gesture.
"It's good to see you too Oswald," he replies, and Cella has to work not to laugh at the fond exasperation in his tone. Oswald has done this to her father every single time she can remember him visiting their home, completely undeterred by her father's dislike of the gesture.
Oswald releases Tobin mercifully quickly and turns to Cella, a twinkle in his eyes as she bows to him. "We're glad you're here, Duke Riegan," she says, and the mischief in his eyes flares again as he bows to her with all due formality. "As tradition demands, Lady Ailell, and I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replies, and she just knows that he's poking fun at her awkward discomfort.
He turns and gestures to the second rider, a young man who has come up to the small group of three with an air of uncertainty and caution that he only mostly succeeds in hiding from them. Oswald grabs his companion by the shoulders, jovially dragging him into the group forming. "Tobin, Cella, allow me to introduce my grandson Claude. He's recently come back to Fódlan and the Alliance, and I'm going to name him my heir," Oswald states with the kind of pride that only a grandfather can muster.
Cella offers him a small smile, sure that he couldn't be older than her and is therefore probably just as uncomfortable in this whole mess as she is. She steps forward, offering her hand. "Nice to meet you, Claude. I'm Cella von Ailell," she introduces herself, and the frank approach tricks a smile out of Claude as he shakes her hand.
"Cella, huh? Well, Cella von Ailell, looks like we're going to be good friends," he observes. Her grip is strong and her hands are rough, he notices silently. This one has handled her fair share of weapons before, unlike the rest of the prissy nobles around here. Good, we'll get along fine.
"I certainly hope so," she replies, and the honesty in her voice makes Claude laugh as the group of four walk into the castle perched on the mountainside behind them. "With my charm and your obvious strength? Cella, this is the start of a long and beautiful friendship."
The resulting laughter rings out over the valley they overlook, echoing through the trees and promising good things to come.
13 Verdant Rain Moon, 1179
Caer Unig Training Grounds
Cella doesn't even try to contain her shout of victory as Claude's training axe goes flying across the floor. "I win again," she sings, pressing her wooden sword against her oldest friend's throat. He playfully scowls at her in response. "So our score is what, one million and one to ten? Why do I even train with you anymore?" he asks with mock hurt as she hands him back the axe she'd flung across half the room when she disarmed him.
"Ten seems generous," she teases, receiving a glare from her sparring partner. Quick as a flash, he grabs the end of her long black ponytail and flicks her in the face with it. "Nah, I think that's eleven, in fact," he teases, and it's Cella's turn to glare as she spits hair out of her mouth.
"If I had to go and get stuck with an honorary brother, why did I have to get the most annoying one possible?" she asks rhetorically. He grins, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and playfully mussing her hair as they leave the training grounds. "And by annoying, I know you mean charmingly loveable rascal," he laughs, poking her cheek when her scowl only intensifies.
She shoves him off of her, rolling her eyes in a way that only amuses him more. "Admit it sis, your life is so much more entertaining with me around!" he prods her as he nudges an elbow into her ribs. "'More like exasperating," she mutters under her breath, but she can't keep up the scowl and Claude sees the smile pushing its way onto her face. "But I suppose I'll put up with you," she adds with a small laugh.
He flops down on a bench on the side of the walkway, pulling her down to sit with him and enjoy the sunshine. She puts up no real resistance, settling herself down before throwing her legs over the length of the bench and using him as a footrest. They're quiet for a few moments, and Cella can hear the familiar hisses and pops of the lava moving in the Valley of Torment far below her.
"You excited? We're formally accepted to the Academy as of this morning," he asks, and she frowns. "A little? It'll be good to go in a year where there's more important people attending, makes my gathering information that much easier. But you know how bad I am with new people," she says, admitting her worry. "You're the only real friend I've ever had, and we're going to have to pretend we don't know each other for secrecy's sake."
"Hey, you'll be great with the Blue Lions!" Claude encourages, trying to cheer her up. "Yes, it may be a lot to keep your entire background and life and existence of your territory a total secret from literally everyone else there. But Cella, secrecy is what you've trained for your whole life! And hey, if you can manage to get past even my facade, you'll be fine making friends with the grumpy, obtuse Kingdom kids."
She snorts with a little bit of laughter. "You just love being the one of the only ones in on such a big secret," she observes dryly, and he flashes her a big grin and nods vigorously as she continues. "No, the secrecy isn't my problem, I've known my whole life that that's my duty as the future Lady of Ailell. Keeping Ailell and her people hidden and safe is second nature by now," she says seriously, and Claude knows she's right. House Ailell was damn good at keeping its entire existence hidden from the outside world. He doubted even he would have ever stumbled upon it had he not formally joined the long-allied House Riegan.
"But you remember what I was like the first few times we met, and that was with you knowing about my life and making an effort to be my friend! I've never been as good with talking to people as you. I'm just afraid I'm not going to know how to make friends," she finishes, and Claude sighs as he pulls her into a comforting hug. He knows that this woman he considers his sister would never show these concerns to anyone else, but he's not entirely sure how to deny her point without lying.
"You'll figure it out, I'm sure. You're too stubborn to stop trying once you set your mind to something," he says, and she smiles at his gentle teasing. "And just because there's no reason for me to know Cella MacKenna from Galatea before we attend classes together, doesn't mean I can't become her friend all over again."
She sighs. "You're right, I know." She pries herself out of his arms and sits up. "Besides, as much as I'd like to make friends, that's not my primary goal. I'm going to Garreg Mach for training and information."
Claude snorts. "Like you even really need to go there to have every possible piece of information on everyone there. I'm positive that Ailell's spies could write a book right now on every single one of our classmates," he retorts, and the pride in Cella's eyes is unmistakable. "Your tiny little territory has the best damn spy network on the entire continent and it's not even a contest."
"Flattery will get you nowhere Claude. As silver-tongued as you may be, I'm still not giving you access to our information channels," she taunts, the argument having grown familiar over the past year since Claude had learned of Ailell's true reach. It was both necessary and a point of pride to the small nation. After all, what better way to keep themselves hidden and independent from the three great nations than to know everything happening within them?
"But Cellaaaaaa," Claude whines, and Cella has to laugh. "Do you know how much it kills a schemer like me to be so close to practically every piece of information on the continent and not be able to have it?"
"You've mentioned it a few times, yes," she replies sarcastically, prying herself out of his grip as she stands up. "But think about it this way: as such a prime source of information on the heir to the Leicester Alliance, you're really already an indispensable part of our spy network!"
Her laughs drown out his promises of dire retribution as she runs away as quickly as her legs can carry her.
20 Lone Moon, 1179
Celwydd Village, covert outpost of Ailell in eastern Galatea
"You have everything you need, yes? All your toiletries and clothes are packed?" Lord Swordmaster Tobin von Ailell, Protector of the Valley, frets as he pats over his daughter's packed bags like a frantic mother hen.
Cella smiles fondly at her father as he goes over the list of her necessary belongings for the third time. She makes eye contact with Axemaster Elric Muirear, the veteran captain of their household guard who she had known since she was an infant. He and two other members of the guard had accompanied them on this excursion to Ailell's westernmost outpost, which for all the world was just another tiny village in the foothills of the mountains. He rolls his eyes in exasperation and she has to contain her similar reaction.
"My Lord, she's had all the same belongings every time you've checked. It's time for her to get on the road, or she won't arrive in time for her first day at the Academy," Elric says as he steps forward to put a hand on his liege and old friend's shoulder.
"I'll be fine, father. I'll miss you all dearly, but I do need to get going," Cella says soothingly, gently pulling her father away from the full bags that she then slings over her shoulder. Before she knows it, she's wrapped in a tight hug from her father that she doesn't hesitate to return.
"I have no doubt that you'll do great things at the academy, Cella," he reassures her, and she hugs him even tighter. "You've raised and taught me so well, Father, that I could hardly do otherwise," she laughs.
Tobin eventually lets go of his only child. "If only your mother could see what a wonderful young woman you're becoming," he says softly. "She'd be even more proud of you than I am."
Cella smiles. "I want to make all of you proud," she says in a quiet but firm voice. "And we have no doubt that you will," her father replies in the same tone, and Elric gives her a silent nod of affirmation before jumping in. "Now get going, my Lady! Send us a letter when you arrive safely, or I fear your Lord father will come riding down there to check on you himself!"
Cella throws back her head and laughs outright, giving her father one last hug before starting to make her way down the road that would eventually take her to Garreg Mach.