Chapter Seven
1.
Here lie several character traits.
Leonie smiles, leans forward, talking with the two of her future classmates that can focus on her, "So, your parents are Luci and Mickael?"
The assumption that killing Claude ends the Riegan line. Raphael selling his family's business to afford schooling. Ignatz's guilt that his best friend's parents died on a mission his parents were originally slotted for. Leonie's wanting to repay her village for getting her a noble's recommendation and paying for her tuition.
"Yah!" Raphael booms. "Oh man, my sister loves hearing about how you came out of nowhere to save them."
Buried deep in dreams because they never actually happened in this timeline.
Leonie shrugs, leaning back against the bench, eyebrows drawing together. "It wasn't-"
"Did you really outrun a heard of monsters?" Ignatz asks, clutching his book tight to his chest, eyes wide with intrigue.
"Well, erm, I guess."
It is odd, speaking to others around her age. They are still younger, but more mature than the children of her village. Leonie can only just maybe see herself beginning to like them. In a relatively fair-sized space with three different Crests constantly dismissing her – no harder from taking a stroll through a random village – the two Crestless are a breath of fresh air. They are young, commoners, and sons of merchants. They are best friends, yet eager to chat with her.
Down further on the benches are Claude and Hilda, where the Riegan heir is trying to needle a reaction out of the pinkette. When that fails, he turns to easy-target Lorenz, the blue violet haired boy just trying to read his book at the end of the bench.
Beside Leonie, the teenager with bright blue hair slumps her head on the orange haired young woman's shoulder. Leonie freezes for a second before relaxing, turning to the boys to ask, "When was the last time she slept?"
"She looked like this when we picked her up," Ignatz frowns. "This is the first time I've seen Marianne fall asleep, though. She stays with her father when we've stopped."
Hard circles around her eyes, large bags under them, with a face drawn and hallow, Marianne von Edmund looks more like a ghost than Leonie's ever felt. The Crest around her is different too, more warm and less prickling than the others as it moves around her. Leonie only vaguely ponders about moving so to not hurt the girl with her bony shoulders. For all the muscle she's acquired, Leonie barely has padding to spare. Marianne looks tough though, she can handle it.
It's only because she's watching, that out of the corner of her eye Leonie sees Claude jolt in a near-unnoticeable way. He looks at everyone, doesn't skip a beat as he bothers Lorenz, before lingering on the them. Then he turns away like nothing's wrong.
Leonie's too busy making potential friends in hushed whispers to have fully looked at him, "I've seen your mother punch a giant bird out of the sky. I bet you have lots more interesting stories from their travels. Have you ever gone with them?"
2.
Leonie swings herself up beside Godfrey, Ignatz quietly drawing in the awaken and frightened Marianne to a conversation. The orange haired girl got an apology for being used as a pillow, but with the Crest dismissing her it was easy to calm the terrified girl down into a modicum bit of self-loathing. That will need to be fixed, but internalized difficulties are not things which can be solved overnight.
"So," Leonie drawls, side-eyeing the man. "Godfrey von Riegan. Can't believe I never figured that out."
"I think I did a good job making sure you didn't," he half-smiles, tugging on the reigns to slow the horses. They're very close to the next town, the sun setting as the trees thin. "I'm surprised Claude wasn't badgering you. He's been excited to meet his mysterious pen pal."
Leonie feels the small bit of disbelief and anger well up – the heir hasn't said anything to her since Sauin – but she needs to focus. Has to ask, "Did you tell him who I really was?"
Godfrey is suspiciously silent.
"Godfrey."
"It's not like it should be hard."
"He probably thinks it's Lorenz!"
"Well then, tell him yourself."
"I'm not saying anything," Leonie doesn't bite back, but it's firm. "Marianne is the only noble in there who's said two words to me past introductions." It's not their fault, but it doesn't endear them any to her. After years and years of biting her tongue and trying to temper her words, she has a habit of not giving free information. No friends to chatter to, after all.
Internalized problems, different for everyone.
"Honestly, if it matters to him to know who I am," Leonie crosses her arms and looks up at the passing branches, "then he can figure it out."
"That's a terrible way of looking at this."
"Why didn't you tell him who I was?"
Godfrey has the grace to look ashamed. Even avoids the question. "Are you still set for the mercenary licence?"
"Yes, though if anyone at the Monastery asks, I want that knight certificate too."
"Oh, you had to write an essay, didn't you?" he grins. "Do you have a copy?"
Leonie lolls her head towards him. Lolls it away. "I'll let you read it after we've stopped."
"You read my mind," he chuckles, following her gaze to the others guiding the carriages. "That is Lord Edmund. Marianne's adoptive father. He's the only noble Lord part of this expedition, but it's strange he came here at all. Though, the only person not expendable is the last person we're picking up."
Leonie's smile is on, looking amused even if a cold bites her insides. Not one person here is indispensable, likely not even the last person they are to gather. Even if her actions have changed some details, fate is still stringing them along. Raphael wants to get the knight certificate to do escort jobs for other merchants. Ignatz wants training so, as a knight, his family won't have to pay for protection on trips. Claude is still Heir Riegan even though his uncle never died. Leonie was still accepted without a noble's recommendation.
It is odd they're all travelling together, but not the strangest thing this life has thrown her way. "I'm not sure you're supposed to say that with several heirs behind you."
"Eh, maybe not. Best to let you know who to protect, though."
Leonie looks him head on, "What makes you think I'd protect anyone?"
He cheekily grins at her, "First, where do you think we're going?"
Leonie's been mapping the way in her head. They'll be at the official border of Gloucester by tomorrow, so far been travelling southwest. She tries to think of another answer, tries not to fixate on the facts from a barely remembered story, but they're missing one Golden Deer classmate, one person who's heir to the seat of House, "Ordelia."
"Correct," he turns from the horses to match her grin, cheer not meeting his eyes. "My sister can replace Claude and myself, Hilda's older brother is in line for Goneril's heirship. Gloucester has an offshoot branch that could takeover but would rather have a stranglehold on the merchant trade, Lord Edmund has several children back home, and Ignatz and Raphael are commoners.
"Lysithea von Ordelia is the only child of her family to survive the plague. Without her, the house will fall. Goneril and Gloucester will probably fight for the land if the Empire doesn't make a bid for it. Sure, we're all important, but if she doesn't make it to the Monastery, the Alliance will break apart in the power void left behind."
Leonie doesn't narrow her eyes as she breaks in, "I'm sure war would break out if any of you died, but why tell me this?"
"I'd pay you to make sure she stays alive," he looks out over the horizon. "Through this and until the end of the school year."
The nineteen years old both feels her hackles raise and indifference settle over her. Her smile sticks, head dropping to look at the horses as her voice, deadly, tells him, "Keep your money. I wasn't going to let any of you die anyway."
Everything needs to keep moving forward.
Even if she feels nothing for them all, even if she hates them, they are not allowed to die until the time skip. If they're allowed to die, then she is too. Expendable. Canon fodder.
Leonie is better than dying like that. She has to be. Or else this was all for nothing, a new life wasted.
This doesn't feel like protection. Maybe stubbornness, but not whatever Godfrey seems to be delighted in having her admit. She rolls her eyes and leaves as dramatically as possible back to the teenagers.
3.
Great Bridge of Myrddin exists in two places, though when people talk about it they assume it's the one connecting the Empire to the Alliance. Lord Acheron controls the territory between the two bridges, the smallest territory of all Alliance nobles, making him a powerful political threat because of how much his land connects between all areas. He essentially controls major trade routes and safe passage to other areas of the Alliance Countries.
Officially, his land is under Gloucester Country's purview. Since his territory exists between Great Bridge of Myrddin's Empire half and Riegan half, he unofficially borders Gloucester, Riegan, Goneril, and Ordelia. Summer villa by the Riegan bridge, winter villa by the Empire bridge.
Which means they get the joy of staying with Lord Acheron three days after stopping in Sauin Village. Godfrey tries to convince Leonie to come into the villa with them for the feast and real beds, but she refuses, warming charmed cloak around her and citing she wants to see the village. Acheron seems to think she's part of the guard crew anyhow, it's not like he takes offense to her refusal.
And while they all sleep, she deals with the assassins. Again.
You think they'd give up, Leonie mouths under Silence. But then you stop at a known sleazy motel and they just keep coming.
These ones are odd, however. Very different from the bandits or scavengers that seem to be all along the roads. These are a few in beak masks, every single one in robes, and organized in their movement. It's almost becomes like playing a game for Leonie, circle the villa and kill any before the reach the walls. Knock them far back if one hit won't do it, and continue.
When it's all over, Leonie steals the few intact glass vials from their robes, taking their coins, knives, and staffs with a hum, breaking any enchantments or tracking devices. Then it's body disposal time.
Finally, Leonie lies down in the wagon to sleep. Only, there are footsteps so soft she almost disregards them when Danger Sense doesn't ping. The young woman strips down Invisibility and Silence, hiding an open eye to try and catch the intruder.
Claude moves to the opening, seemingly relaxes at the sight of her. He turns away, hand pressing to his face as he mutters, "Why am I even out here?"
Leonie takes to opportunity to switch into Crest vision.
She's not ready to see golden-white leaking from his veins.
The young woman quickly shuts her eyes after her gasp, not seeing what happens beyond Claude's startle. She fakes a shift, breathing evening out. Eventually, he leaves.
She throws back on the wards and follows. Up the ivory and making sure he's back into his room fine. Leonie practically throws herself in the wagon when she's back, arm over her eyes as she tries to process what she saw. What she double checked.
Thin, gold-white strands trying desperately to hold on. The Crest of Riegan. The colour which pours from the golden deer's heart.
It could mean nothing, Leonie thinks forlornly. Correlation does not imply causation.
C is Claude, Godfrey was once Heir Riegan, and Luci and Mickael survived into Raphael's school years. Leonie has met and been brushed off by so many people over the years, it should have meant nothing that the one to pay attention – to want her in his party – was someone important.
It should mean nothing that there was a deer with a Crest shard in its heart.
Leonie thinks, maybe gold and white are common Crest bond colours.
She doesn't appreciate how it feels like lying to herself.
4.
Leonie doesn't avoid Claude, but she stops making the effort of announcing her presence. He glances at her – searches for her – more often. Once even looking around the wagon's fabric to make sure she's still keeping pace as she runs with the company.
She thinks he's supposed to be sly and crafty. This must be his paranoia, keeping track of everyone. Looking for threats. She hopes the answer is as simple as this. Leonie's not sure she can take much more deep-thinking problem solving.
The urge to stab something hasn't left since day four. By day five, Ignatz and Raphael have noticed that the roundtable noble teens never seem to include Leonie in conversations. They don't question her about it, which she is more than appreciative of.
Most of the time Marianne spends with them is asleep on Leonie or making very short conversation with others. She'll talk softly with the orange haired commoner, the tense edge of being in a confined space with others never truly easing. The blue haired teen admits quietly that she's worried about causing ruin to them all.
"You're not causing anything wrong," Leonie mutters back just as soft. Marianne isn't comfortable enough for skin-on-skin touch, but lately has been leaning on Leonie when awake. The giant blue dress the teen wears is covered in wards and charms. "I'll probably be the one making trouble. And, I've been having a wonderful time talking with you. No need to stress, Marianne."
As much as the soft-spoken girl isn't growing on her, it helps pass the time. Leonie's beginning to force her way into Team Mum position, something that never happened in the story. The only real Team Mother was in the Blue Lions house, a girl who could sick burns on even the wildest of personalities.
What was her name again? Leonie has it written somewhere. She'll have to ask for some pointers on how help the class, if she gets in of course. If not, well, there are plenty of other things to do at the Monastery.
Plenty to explore.
"Oooh," Leonie awes, ignoring Godfrey's squawk at her appearance, "look at that. Talk about dark and foreboding."
Seven days on the road, and finally time to meet the last classmate.
"Make some noise," Godfrey complains, Leonie settling into the space beside him. The wagon rolls smoothly over packed dirt to the castle made of dark marble. "I guess Capital Ordelia would look like that to strangers. It's actually a rather calm place, lots of dark undertones for colour."
Lots of dark themes everywhere. "Are we staying for the night or…?"
"We'll be leaving as soon as we get the heir," he replies a little tightly. "I didn't expect us to make such good time, normally bandits attack the royal carriages on their way to the Monastery. Houses Riegan and Goneril usually fly their students directly."
It makes more sense then the carriage ride. "Why not this year?"
He takes a deep breath. "There likely isn't going to be as many Golden Deer students this year. Same with last year."
Leonie hums, knowing many on the west of the Alliance were killed because of the sickness which took the children around her. Did it decimate more? What happened that the east of the Alliance is sending heirs via road trip? "And, I guess this lets the future leaders interact before school."
"Claude does need more friends," Godfrey grins a bit. "And your letter said you were going to walk there? Leonie, I know you're good, but this is much safer. I'm glad you came with us."
She hums, brushing her boots together to feel the sheaths press against her socks. There is turbulence in the air, over her skin, the closer they get to city. A bit of lightening wouldn't be out of place as two weak things clash against each other, unseen and unfelt to the others. With the feelings follows Danger Sense, beginning to alert her to the troublesome people watching them from the city walls.
"I'm glad I came too." Lie. More like she's pleasantly surprised to see a bit more of the world. No need to upset Godfrey. The teens have all year to make friends with one another.
Or not.
So much to prepare for, so little time.
5.
The orange haired nineteen years old keeps her hands behind her lower back, carefully watching the interior like a tourist. Very gothic-esque setting, gargoyles even inside and billowing drapes with spiderweb designs. One of the five Houses part of the Leicester Alliance's roundtable, the only one without a Crest assigned with their origin, House Ordelia is known for its good trade with the smaller territories in the Empire, producing intellectuals who have challenged the sciences of Fódlan, and having the highest record of noble births. That last one was something they could boast to, until only one child in their entire lineage remained after the 'plague'.
Leonie remember the real reason. The backstory of the Golden Deer house may be vague memories, but the told-and-true facts are hard to forget when the reminder is in the air itself. Lysithea von Ordelia was experimented on like her siblings. Unlike them, she survived and came out with two Crests. By the feel of it, one major and one minor.
The timeline isn't quite adding up, however. Lysithea would have just been a baby at most when the plague hit. Unless… they're talking about the one from the Kingdom.
In her mind, Leonie sighs. I'll never understand politics.
"At least stay for lunch," Lady Ordelia insists. Leonie snaps her attention away from the creepy people in the shadows watching them to the castle's owner at the mention of food.
Godfrey is doing his best to get out, "We really shouldn't impose."
"Nonsense," Lord Ordelia mutters through his bushy mustache. "It would be our honor to host you all. Why, our daughter should be finished packing. At least some light snacks before you go. Maybe tea?"
"I would love some tea," Lorenz, who seems to enjoy watching Godfrey squirm and doesn't understand the situation they're in, smiles pleasantly. Leonie doesn't roll her eyes because people can focus on her, but the amount of tea he drinks is absurd. At least three cups for every stop, and a small bladder.
Hilda just moans her complaints when tea withdrawal hits her.
"Wonderful!" Lady Ordelia claps.
"We should at least make sure Heir Ordelia is all set and ready," Godfrey forces his smile more, turning to look at the kids. His eyes pass over the boys, decides Hilda wouldn't do it, and 'nope's over Marianne's aura of gloom, leaving, "Leonie, would you mind carrying her things to the cargo wagon? Ah, you probably don't know, but it's a twenty-point limit."
That's not a lot. She salutes, "Got it!" Begins her search without asking where to go. It's not that hard to, just follow where the only Crests are coming from. She does wonder if anyone questions how she figures it out. Enough wrong turns, and the shadows stop following her.
With a metaphysical wave and stream washing over her, the young woman knocks. The echo is thin, the wood not too old or thick.
A teenager not yet fifteen opens it. Hair milk-bottle white and smooth skin that's paler and thinner than Marianne's, Lysithea bores pink eyes into her without squinting, "Who are you?"
The two out-of-sync Crests move around her, one disagreeing with what the other interacts with, not seeing a person on a different wavelength. Oil and water sensing conflicting things, two negatives making a positive.
Lysithea must have the situational awareness of a Goddess.
"Leonie," she smiles with a tad of realism in it, no matter how unchanged it is to her normal one. "I'm with the group here to pick you up for Garreg Mach."
Lysithea von Ordelia sniffs, crossing her arms. "I didn't think there was an Heir Leonie."
"There's not," she responds easily, all attention on the teen. "I'm one of three commoners travelling with the group."
"Oh. My apologies. I had thought it was only the heirs given travel."
The white-haired teen does look uncomfortable about assuming. Leonie spreads her hands in a 'what can you do' manner. "It's always good to be worried. Ask questions. I'm here to help with your luggage while your parents try to bribe us into staying for lunch."
Lysithea gets a peeved look on her face. "I told them not to do that."
While she storms back into her rather small room, Leonie takes a look around. Two dolls, one stuffed golden deer on the bed, discarded beside a small crate. A writing desk, broken quills and blotchy paper in a waste basket. Lysithea stands in front of a bookshelf full of thick tomes, hand reaching forward and hesitating over and over as she chooses what to pick.
When Leonie looks in the crate, there's maybe room for two books. The clothing already tucked in is a standard black, no jewellery or writing utensils to be found. Nothing precious from home.
She really, really shouldn't care. Leonie doesn't bother making herself known, the only times she talks with Marianne are when the teen awakens, Ignatz has started his own studying while Raphael works on weapon maintenance. Lysithea, no matter if she can see her or not, will be like the others. From the vague scrapings Leonie has focused on her classmates, she remembers Lysithea being studious to the point of damaging her already frail health. A possible glass cannon with no time for foolishness.
Leonie doesn't feel like she cares, actually feels a bit awkward, but shuts the door anyways.
It gets Lysithea's attention. "What are you doing?"
"If you can keep a secret," Leonie puts a finger over her own lips, winking to make it seem more playful. It's a rather important secret, but not one that will stay hidden if she makes it into the main class, "I'll help you smuggle some books."
The white-haired mage-in-training narrows her eyes. "And how would you do that? They're going to add extra weight to our travels unless you run with them the whole time."
Oh, if only she knows what's to come. "Like I said, secret." Leonie holds out her smallest finger, "Pinkie promise you won't tell anyone what you're about to see, and we can take as many books as you want."
Lysithea rears back for a moment, but then the hesitant curiosity comes forth. It's good to see that wasn't stamped out of the girl. "What is a… pinkie promise?"
"A solemn oath," Leonie grins a bit wider. "No actual magic involved, it's just to make you feel extra guilty if you break the promise. It's like… have you ever heard cross my heart and hope to die? It's like that except not as extreme."
"That sounds like a terrible way to make a promise," but Lysithea raises a pinkie finger. Enunciates clearly, "I promise not to tell anyone about how you smuggled in my books if you help me take them to Garreg Mach Monastery."
Leonie hooks their fingers and moves up and down. Lysithea looks at the unjoining of their hands funnily, but only asks, "Now what?"
"Now, you make a list of the books we're taking along." Leonie grabs the main one Lysithea had been hesitating over. Thicker than her palm and all about magic. She reads out the name, waiting until the fourteen years old writes it down on scrap paper before she opens her rucksack. Lysithea makes a strangled gasp and rushes over, gapping at the sight of darkness.
Leonie demonstrates how to take it out, warning the teen it will shock her if she tries. Lysithea goes stone-faced for a moment before a sharp nod. "We're taking them all."
Leonie grins, "You got it."
6.
The group finds them with the wagons, Leonie and Lysithea having a heated discussion on the application of glyphs outside of casting. The shorter of the two cuts off as the party arrives, drawing herself up as tall as she can, greeting, "Mother. Father."
"Oh, Lysithea dear," Lady Ordelia rushes forward to give her daughter a hug. "Are you sure you want to do this? You can always wait-"
"I am not a child, mother," Lysithea stops her awkward patting to pull away. "I am old enough to attend Garreg Mach and I am ready for it. I hope you respect my decision."
"I do, I do," the woman wipes away her own tears, memorizing her daughter's face. Leonie turns away, clear to her that Lysithea is pushing away her family even if she wants to hold on and never let go. Ugh. I wonder what that feels like. "I worry. I'll always worry."
"Now, now," Lord Ordelia comes up and, after Leonie spares a glance to make sure magic-encyclopedia-Lysithea doesn't need her, Leonie pulls herself into the student's wagon. "Our little girl can handle herself."
Leonie pulls out an apple and starts eating, head falling back against the cover fabric as she waits. Hopefully no one was poisoned without her around. Everyone seemed to have all fingers and toes, and the shadows and officials triggering Danger Sense are staying back. Moments later, Lysithea scampers on and takes Ignatz's usual seat across from Leonie. She eyes the fruit, "Do you have any more?"
Leonie tosses another at her.
"Thanks."
The young woman winks and wiggles her pinkie, smiling, "Don't mention it."
Lysithea grins behind a bite. Swallows. "So, why do you think it'd be possible to keep glyphs from disappearing without a source of focused magic?"
7.
Lorenz pretty quickly swaps his seat from the end with the usual nobles to beside Lysithea, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you discussing magical theory?"
The ladies share a look, Lysithea answers, "We're focusing on Reason Magic at the moment."
"Fascinating," he looks more at Lysithea than at Leonie, but he's at least acknowledging her. "What are your thoughts on Haffens theory of displacement?"
It devolves from there into lightly heated arguments on personal beliefs versus Fódlan-wide accepted values of magic. Leonie is beginning to see what will hopefully become a pattern in the coming six-day journey to the Monastery. Listening to their arguments and tossing in her own limited knowledge raises a lot of questions on how her 'wrong' way of doing magic is even possible. Not that the two heirs realize her 'hypothetical' situations are anything but.
Once, and only once, Lorenz tries to argue his point with, "I am the only one here who has ever been apart of the Royal Academy of Sorcery, so I am the only one who understands this subject."
"Oh," Leonie cuts back bluntly, smile serene, "you mean the one they kicked you out of?"
He splutters, "I was not kicked out! The political tensions in Fhirdiad were not worth the risk of staying."
"So you ran," Lysithea shoots back like the beautiful ally she is. Lorenz continues to choke, Lysithea continues to be unimpressed, "Are we supposed to be awed that you didn't finish school? How long were you even there for?"
"Why I-"
"About three months," Leonie rolls a hand like she's not certain. "It wasn't very long. I remember hearing about his departure and arrival in the rumor mill."
Lorenz huffs out the amount of days, clearly irritated with them both. He barely contributes to the discussion after that and leaves to go read as soon as they stop in the middle of nowhere for the night.
Lysithea follows Leonie to the camping gear wagon, getting Godfrey's attention and staring him down with all the intimidation her 148-centimeter height can muster, "I will be sharing a tent with Leonie tonight."
He raises an eyebrow, smiling a little too giddily for Leonie's liking, and responds with, "Just don't stay up all night discussing magic theory."
"Here," Leonie hands over the tent poles, light enough to carry but large enough to feel like a lot. "Go pick out where you want the tent. I'll get the coverings."
"O-okay!"
Leonie pointedly ignores Godfrey's smile. Once the tent is up, she hands the young teen the requested textbook. Sheet-white Lysithea, who could be mistaken to have albinism if it existed in this world, situates herself in the tent and ignores the world. Leonie hesitates outside for a second, then grossly licks her finger and plants the Repel Damage ward on the hanging fabric. Better safe than sorry. The young teen's father has pink eyes, but neither parents were that level of ghost white and neither have her white hair.
Just how deep did the Crest experiments go?
It also reminds Leonie something she needs to ask Godfrey, but only when they're moving and barely any sound reaches past the driver bench. She really doesn't want to ask; social politics aren't her thing – especially since she now experiences more joy killing her problems than talking them out – but this problem wouldn't go away with an easy stab at the offenders. Leonie will have to pull up all the future-thinking, barbed tongue of reasonable arguments that is geared more towards last life than this one. It makes her feel empty inside even thinking about standing up for people instead of stabbing those who go against her ideals.
Dimitri's way didn't work. Plus, he's royalty. His devoted people will always give him a pass. Edelgard was the villain the moment she triggered war. Leonie doesn't want to be seen as evil, but this body has a hard time caring about what people think of her. It's hard enough caring about keeping Jeralt alive, and all the plans the lead up entails. If she had to care about taking an active role in changing the status quo, Leonie would have run off long ago. It's too much effort for someone who couldn't care less about this world.
Leonie finally goes into her tent around two in the morning, the bodies of their attackers nothing more than ash. There was less this time, hopefully meaning they're running out of expendables.
It would be so easy to follow along with fate. Someone will win, many will lose. As long as she doesn't stick around, Leonie only needs to worry about the timeline falling to pieces later in her life. She must be doing something right, as she's still alive and time's moving forward.
It could be so easy to give in and kill.
Lysithea snorts in her sleep, turning over and grabbing onto Leonie with freezing hands.
Leonie looks at the girl with too few years left a moment longer. She closes her eyes and relaxes, ignoring the Crests that disagree around her.
It would be nice to have friends. She'll settle for a pack bond with something that isn't a mindless weapon. If worst comes to worst, she'll drop by Captain Jeralt's office for tea.
Once they're on the road again, Lorenz throws himself in his new seat and begins debating Faith Magic theory with vigor.
Leonie appreciates the new point of view. Appreciates hearing not all faith magic has to do with the Goddess. According to some researchers, sometimes all it takes is heat-of-the-moment hope.
8.
When they stop at a town for lunch, Hilda grabs Marianne's arm and gives Lysithea a 'come hither or else' glare, "Us girls are going shopping!"
Lysithea grabs Leonie's arm before she can step away. The youngest pretends to glare even if she's vibrating in excitement, "If I have go, you do too."
"Fine," Leonie sighs, lets herself get dragged along. She won't be able to buy anything, in fact she's positive none of them will be able to.
Turns out Hilda was given some shopping money before she left her territory. For someone who complains about having to do things, Hilda drags them all over the place. She and Lysithea try out different perfumes while Leonie walks Marianne over to a nearby tree full of birds and talks her down from a panic attack.
"I'm more likely to cause trouble then you are," she assures the girl.
"You don't understand," Marianne says each word between a breath. "I- I-!"
"You are fine," she keeps the pale girl's hand on her chest, taking deep breaths to try and get a mimic effect. "Just because bad things happen around you does not mean you are the cause. Not even if people tell you." Leonie is quick to make sure Marianne cannot utter a word about how she is 'disastrous'. "There is no Crest, curse, or bad karma that makes people around you have bad luck or disasters. That's their fault. Come on, Marianne, breathe with me."
Lysithea comes away from the perfume stall to find them, but Leonie shakes her head. The younger teen frowns but, noticing the state of the blue haired teen, backs away. Leonie relaxes and goes back to comforting the meltdown that's obviously been building up over the weeks of travel.
She knows it isn't likely, what with the medieval set-up of the world, but Leonie wants there to be some good counselors to help these kids adjust at the Monastery. Someone to talk them through their first kills, to help them adjust to the culture shock of moving to a strongly religious place of worship, and to assist in all the emotional and mental baggage every single student will bring with them
Judging by how unstable she remembers people being – remembers them becoming – Leonie isn't looking forward to watching everyone's mental health decline.
9.
With four days left in the journey, they're close enough to see the mountain that Garreg Mach Monastery is home to. There are spires in the sky, slowly but surely becoming more and more noticeable.
Leonie knows she can't put this off much longer. Instead of debating magic theory with her fellow L's or running to keep in practice, she swings into the seat beside Godfrey, taking a moment to study him.
Leonie knows she fixates on eyes and hair, the former more so than the latter. Eyes were the first thing she saw in this new life, the first thing to tell her this isn't her homeland. Every eye in Fódlan has three rings: the middle circle in the iris, between the edge ring and the pupil. It is a darker shade of the iris colour, moving as the pupil does. She still doesn't know what it's for, but it was and still is the marker that states this isn't the world you first grew up in.
Hair, she fixates on because it can naturally be any colour. Leonie's is a vibrant orange, there was a child in her village that had lilac for a colour. Hilda and her brother were born with bright pink hair, a signature look come to be known with the children of Goneril. No one blinks twice when hair in this world isn't black, brown, yellow, orange, red, or white.
The only thing Leonie fixates with skin, is any scars. Faith magic can do a lot of things, reason magic too though many disagree with its healing ability. Healing magic is as terrifying as it is wonderful. It is the reason Leonie isn't covered in acne pockets or brandishing scars from all her hits. They can be hoped away, believing you won't wake up with the zit on your forehead works. The magic heals tears in clothing without a thought, because people believe it to still be intact even after that missed arrow drew a cut.
Magic heals sunspots, burns, bruises, damage. It stops tanning, which is why Leonie is only vaguely yellowing all over. Healing magic reverts you back to the last state of healthy at the cost of your own energy. Leonie has spent years in the sun with nothing to show for it. That, to anyone in Fódlan who's picked up one of bibles and read a certain Seiros speech, shows the mark of someone well-versed in Faith. A true believer.
Leonie has learned to paraphrase it as: Quite a catch. Nobles are taught to keep their skin as white as possible, and if it's impossible then to remove any and all traces of scarring instead of wasting energy on that. It's something that's disgruntled her for years; she wants to tan. Needs some kind of proof that she's worked long hours in the outside if she'll ever be taken seriously as a mercenary. Jeralt had several faded scars on his face, things that make his Blade Breaker status common knowledge.
She also enjoys looking at people who aren't ghostly or look a stiff breeze from flying away. If Leonie cared to bemoan it, she'd silently complain in her mind how only two teenagers in the wagon don't reminder her about the possibilities of skin cancer and vitamin D deficiency. Raphael and Claude are the only teens with healthy looking complexations, even Hilda with all her hidden strength looks like she'd get dizzy from standing too fast. It's annoying.
More than that, it edges on Fódlan's racism. It's rare for anyone to outright look down on someone with darker skin, but the 'standard' is white. Even worse, the people of Fódlan can look at someone and know if they're from Almyra. Leonie has no idea how, no idea if it's a Crest thing or if it works with other countries or territories like Brigid, but in every town they've past so far, people are hesitant around Claude. Some children have even asked their parents where he's from.
Leonie's found her urge to kill rising a lot these days. With less enemies appearing, she's growing antsy even if she's hiding it well.
"So," she quietly asks Godfrey, "what do I need to know about Claude's story?"
If he's surprised she asks, he doesn't show it. "His father's from Almyra. I don't think anyone would have the gall to ask the next leader of the roundtable about it, but I would appreciate keeping it hidden as long as possible. I'm sure you can see why not a lot of people would be happy with it."
Because she respects him, Leonie nods. "Need me to do anything?"
"Just, keep an eye out for him, yes? He's only been in Fódlan a few months before the pen pal thing. As adjusted as he can be, he will stand out amongst the nobles."
"Got it." If she remembers correctly, he'll stand out more than his uncle thinks. While everyone should be settling it or gearing up for lessons, it is school. The social pit of humanity's children. There's always at least one stupid person who thinks they're more powerful than the rest. As long as they don't go after – or against – the Leader of the Golden Deer, Leonie will get to work elsewhere in improving Claude's standings.
The fights around them will happen, but there are adults who can deal with it. What Leonie's most concerned with is infighting.
Only time will tell just where she'll attack first.
10.
The full of Garreg Mach Monastery comes into view as the trees part.
Leonie feels a lick of dread in her stomach as she smiles with the other students at the wonder. It's… big. A lot bigger than she expected.
Many places to hide, much to explore. It's going to be a busy year.
A/N: In which they finally reach the Monastery. In other news, New Leonie's a lot angrier than she realizes and doesn't seem to understand what this body deems as 'caring for others'.
Thanks for reading! A really big thank you to ShadowWolf223, xenocanaan, IReadNoNonsense, guisniperman, 2lazy2login, AdamasintheRough, and PsychedAnon for reviewing! The support truly means a lot!
Thanks to everyone who guessed, it is Lysithea in the end. Godfrey volunteered to take all the heirs because who would think attacking them all at once was a good idea, right? (Only Hilda and Lysithea's parents agreed this was a good plan and so majority ruled.)
Thanks again for reading. I hope everyone has a fantastic day