Chapter 89: Gather round the Campfire

"Just surprised." He fixed her with a moderately bland look before he directed his attention to the small campfire that had been assembled in the heart of their little camp. Surrounding them was the bustling movements of the Black Eagle house. She had offered to go out and fetch the firewood to start the camp, but then Hanneman had suggested that the Black Eagles deal with it and they had been more than fine with performing the task.

She only offered because it would have been quicker if she did it. Then found herself standing near the second strangest person in the Monastery right behind the newest Professor as she waited for them to finish up. Which ended up in the current conversation they were having which had started out through his quiet critique of the kindling that some of the students had brought back.

"I camped out in the forests of Adrestia for weeks before I encountered the Church and Byleth at Remire." Goetia blandly explained to her, she would have thought he was defending himself but he didn't sound as though he cared for that. Maybe it was just something with his pride to convince her that he wasn't just speaking to look like he knew what he was doing. "I familiarised myself with the basic needs of forming a successful camp as well as discerning which sources of food were edible and which were not."

Humming quietly, she watched as the students next moved to start setting up their tents. That would have been the first thing she did while there was still light, then she would have gone for the camp. But it wasn't her job to teach them, that was for Hanneman and he had just watched them in silence with a scrutinising face. He knew what to do as well, he was just letting them learn. Fair enough, one learned more through action than through words in her experience.

"How much of that was you using magic?" Shamir asked, but she already knew the answer. Goetia was the type of person who knew what worked and ran with it. She respected that, he played to his strengths and he played to them well. She'd seen a little of his magic in action and she was impressed by its effectiveness. He also seemed to have the weakness of most mages covered if half of what she heard about Lonato's death was accurate.

Goetia hummed faintly. "You already know the answer."

"Figured it was best to hear you say it than make a guess and be wrong." She replied with a shrug of her shoulders, sparing him a quick glance before she continued on. "Didn't want to guess and figure being wrong."

"Hmph." He grunted back at her, then gave his answer, not once taking his eyes off the fires as he did so. "I became curious at one point and opted to work by hand as opposed to via magecraft. The results were subpar when compared with my other capabilities." She thought he sounded angry for a moment, then something else flickered through his eyes. "But there was a sense of achievement within it. I had familiarised myself with the efficiency of camp construction with magecraft, but I was not aware of my capabilities when it came to utilising less…practised techniques."

Shamir's lip twitched at the way he spoke about it, not quite sounding like an insult but certainly making it sound as though he was in some way lowering himself to making a camp. Nevermind the fact she had never seen someone make a camp with magic before in her life and if she had been told a couple years ago it could be done, she would have looked at the spear a little funnily and shrugged her shoulders.

It made sense. If people could find a way to do something faster and better, then why stick to the old method?

"Didn't think you would do that." She admitted after a moment of silence, then caught his brief look in her direction that was all but demanding that she elaborate the point further. "You strike me as the type of person who sticks to what works."

Goetia remained silent as his eyes lingered on her for a moment, then they turned away from her with a twitch of his lips downwards. "I am not so dependent on a singular method. There have been times where the traditional method is no longer acceptable and change is required. Besides…I was curious as to the perspective that would be offered if I were to adapt my methods."

"Was it worth it?"

"...Perhaps. I am unsure but I do not regret the change in methods." He replied after a moment of thought. Well, so long as he didn't have a problem with it then it didn't really matter. Besides, she could offer a little bit of respect for someone who wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty when it really mattered. Though she couldn't help but notice that his own hands had remained remarkably clean so far.

Then again, the same could be said for hers.

"Any other talents?"

"You seem more talkative than I would expect of you." He commented rather suddenly, ignoring her question. "I assumed that you were one who would not strike up conversation unless it was either required of you or it would yield something of value to you. I am unsure which category I fit into."

Shamir paused for a moment, then unfolded her arms and placed them on her hips. The truth was that Goetia wasn't entirely wrong, she didn't usually talk this much with people unless she had to. Normally it was Catherine who would force her into a conversation about this sort of thing. Though she could probably take a guess as to why it was she was speaking with him. "Probably because you're not affiliated with the Church like me. I don't know about the new Professor but I know her reputation."

That earned her a brief hum from Goetia. "The Ashen Demon." he commented, she detected a hint of amusement when he spoke the title as though he wasn't taking it seriously. "I have heard, though given the prominence of her father and your own former occupation, I would have been surprised if you were unaware as to her in the first place."

"My former occupation?"

"The conversations of the clerics of the academy are remarkably simple to listen to when they have no reason to believe someone is listening." Shamir very nearly twitched a smile at his words but held it back. He was certainly right when it came to something like that, though at the same time he was implying that he had gone around eavesdropping on conversations around the Monastery. Given they were her current employer, she was probably supposed to inform him not to do that…

…He would also not listen to her and do it anyway, so she might as well save her breath.

"You shouldn't say that around Catherine." She instead warned him with a quieter tone of voice to make sure that no one else could listen in on them. "She would probably take it the wrong way if you did that."

"She is biased against me." Goetia replied immediately with a note of exasperation. "Besides, I have little reason to concern myself with her opinion of me. So long as I adhere to the basic rules of the Monastery and of the Church, there is little she can do beyond glare at me in annoyance."

Shamir paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at him. "You not like her or something?"

"I don't think about her at all."

…Well, alright then.

Before she could speak further, she turned her head sharply to the faint cracking of a stick snapping. Catching a brief glimpse of Goetia doing the same, the end result was one of the Black Eagle students - the purple haired girl who got scared easily - pausing as she found herself under the attention of the two of them.

The teenager froze up like a rabbit, sporting wide eyes and looking as though she was ready to bolt. Neither of them said anything as she took in a quick and shuddering breath before snapping her eyes closed. "P-Professor Hanneman wanted to know if you were going to eat with us at the camp butitsfineifyoudon'twantto!"

She turned and scrambled back the way she had come without waiting for either of them to say anything. Shamir remained stone faced at the sudden retreat of the young girl before she gave a single noise of disappointment. She wasn't sure how useful someone like her could be inside of a combat situation.

With a slow shake of her head, she turned her attention towards Goetia, his eyes remained locked onto the retreating form of the student before they flickered onto her for a moment of silence shared between the two of them. His lips thinned as he turned his attention back to the fire for a few moments and then spoke up. "It would seem as though she has not recovered from my encounter with her during our first encounter."

Before Shamir could ask what he was alluding to, they were interrupted once again by someone walking straight towards them from the opposite side of the camp. She turned as the brunette girl stepped through the brush without looking as though she cared, a friendly smile on their face as they approached before they came to a stop in front of the pair, nodding to her once and then turning her eyes onto Goetia with a slightly teasing smile to her.

"I saw poor Bernie rush off before you could even get a word out." The girl, Dorothea, spoke with a slightly awkward expression. "Don't think too much about it-"

"I am familiar with her exaggerated flight response." Goetia cut her off before she could finish, Shamir glanced between the two of them with a slightly raised eyebrow but saying nothing as she watched them. There was something different about his tone of voice with her as he spoke. "Besides, there is little reason for you to speak on her behalf. Her actions speak for themselves. Though I now find myself slightly curious as to why you have approached me, unless you seek casual conversation as before?"

Dorothea cocked a smirk at him. "I'm not sure why you talk about me seeking you out, but it's only fair, isn't it? Especially since last time it was you who invited me out for a meal." she paused and then offered a single shrug of her shoulders. "It would be a little unfair of me to not invite you for a small meal by the camp…though mine might be a little less impressive than a professional."

"This implies that you would be the one to cook the food."

A silent smile was the answer.

"...I was unaware you were capable of cooking food." Goetia replied in a blunt fashion that had Shamir raise her brows ever so slightly at the way he spoke. She would certainly imagine anyone else would have been insulted, but Dorothea looked exceedingly amused for some reason.

With a sudden grin, the brunette placed her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels with a light voice. "Are you admitting that I have managed to catch you by surprise then, Gotie?"

Goetia didn't even hesitate. "That says more about the impression that you bestow upon others than it says about my capacity to be surprised." he started to walk past her as he continued on. "But by all means. Revel in this achievement of yours to surpass my meagre expectations. You've achieved basic competence."

Dorothea's face flattened as Goetia walked past her, but she still didn't look insulted, instead Shamir could see a flicker of confusion and a bit of concern on her face as she tracked his movements until she was facing the back of his head. She was rather unsure as to what the relationship was between Goetia and this girl but she didn't care either.

It wasn't her stable and they weren't her wyverns.

Approaching the camp itself was without incident, he doubted any one of them would have even batted an eyelid at the fact he marched towards the centre of the small camp they had assembled and stopped just short of the flames.

Diverting his attention to those around him, he kept his eyes on those who seemed to be the most involved in their work. It was a mild surprise that they were showing as much competence in the task of camp assembly as they were demonstrating, with some minor flaws in the setting up of the fire before night had fallen along with the speed at which the tents had been assembled, he had very little else to complain about.

They were, at the end of the day, mere novices when it came to this manner of task. It was something that would be a temporary skill and one they would be unlikely to call upon in the future. Even if they did have outings into the wilderness for whatever reason, they would doubtless have servants who could perform these tasks with greater speed and skill.

Well, he was not the one in charge of this endeavour so he had little reason to offer his own opinion on it. They could do as they wished and learn whatever lesson they believed could be gleaned from it. He flicked his hand at his side, a faint rumbling behind him and tremors through the dirt, the land beneath his feet shifted and rose up, stretching and flattening as he alerted the landscape to suit his needs.

Then he fell back and landed on the chair of hardened dirt he had carved for himself, leaning on one side and resting his arm on the chair to prop up his head, keeping his eyes on those around him with relative dispassion.

From person to person they lingered until they landed upon the silhouette which had sequestered itself to the far corner of the camp with only minimal movement since they had begun. The boy known as Hubert, the retainer of the Crown Princess. It would appear that once he had finished completing the task of assembling his own and Edelgard's tent, he had ceased all activity and was now staring at him from across the short distance between the two of them.

Neither one of them said a word to the other, but his intentions were rather apparent. He had performed what was expected of him and was doing no more and no less. Perhaps because he cared nothing for his peers or perhaps because he expected them to be capable of the same as he, the motivation mattered little when he was observing the result. Hubert was now watching him with a near unblinking gaze which hadn't shifted once since he noticed them.

Discerning an emotion from them was difficult, they masked their expressions well, and further examination would likely require the use of magecraft. A use that he held no interest in pursuing, moving his eyes away from the boy and leaving them to their observations. He doubted they would gain anything of value in watching him but if that was how they wished to spend their time, then they were free to perform that little task at their leisure.

A crunch of leaf litter behind him heralded the arrival of Dorothea, the brunette stalked past him while looking down at him through the corner of her eye. There was a hidden degree of mirth in her gaze mixed with something else he couldn't quite place, she came to a stop and turned around, folding her arms in front of her and looking down at him with a lopsided smirk.

"I suppose I have seen everything now." She commented with that same amused tone, he knew she was hardly being serious and he was capable of more impressive feats than sculpting soil into a chair. But he wasn't going to boast about those to her, it wouldn't be worth it. "Still, now I'm a little curious…"

Leaning towards him, Dorothea uncrossed her arms and extended her left hand, running it along the length of the right arm of the chair and drawing her fingers back after a single touch, rubbing them together and making a small noise. "I can't imagine something like that being comfortable. It feels smooth but it looks rather restricting."

A lone eyebrow was raised at her.

"Do you mean to imply that I would craft a chair that I was incapable of sitting in on purpose? What would be the point of such an act?"

As opposed to the expected reaction where she would recant her words, accompanied by the proclamation that she intended no offence, he was instead greeted with the slightly pitiable look as her eyes roamed the chair up and down. "I think that says more about the quality of furniture where you come from if back home that you're fine with sitting in a dirt chair with no cushions."

Placing a hand on her chest, she leaned on one side. "I'm a commoner and even I wouldn't sit down on something without putting down at least a bit of padding to make it more comfortable…" a beat, her hand cupped her chin as a sudden look entered her eye. "Though now I'm seeing a lot more sense with your fashion now and why you just don't put all that much effort into your appearance…a very simplistic style, is it?"

Pulling his head off his fist, he dropped his limb onto the arm of the chair in a slow and deliberate fashion, not once turning his gaze from the woman before him who didn't seem to so much as flinch at being the subject of his full attention. He felt not a trace of emotion on his face before he made a slow and deliberate show of glancing either side of him before returning his focus back to her. "And what would you suggest I use as padding? Perhaps assemble a collection of fallen leaves and sprinkle them onto my seating?"

She flattened her features, placing her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes at his words. The brief pang of annoyance he felt was crushed when she threw her thumb over her shoulder towards the direction of the wagon that Anna was currently standing next to, likely in the midst of checking her merchandise, and then turning over her shoulder and calling out. "Excuse me, Miss Anna?"

The red head immediately whipped around with a practised smile on her face. "Yes?"

He didn't need clairvoyance to see where this was going, Dorothea seemingly reached the same conclusion if the knowing smile she sent him was any indication, that infernal smirk remaining on her face as she continued to speak.

"I don't suppose that your wagon has anything related to home comfort…such as cushions?"

The confusion on the face of Anna lasted for scarcely a moment, peeling her eyes from the back of Dorothea and landing on him. That practised smile shifted into something sharper as her hands unclasped from her front, she brought up the left and tapped it twice on her chin as she pretended to think.

It was nothing more than an act.

He knew Anna was aware of every single item within her inventory off the top of her head, she was doing this to be petty.

"I'm sure that I could find something…depending on the need for it."

He stared, she stared right back with a coy grin.

His gaze returned to Dorothea. "I am not giving her money for a cushion when I do not need one. I am perfectly fine with sitting on this chair. Your concern is unneeded."

There was a moment of silence, he thought she might opt to press the issue further but she merely let out an exasperated sigh and made a dramatic shake of her head while placing a hand over her forehead, pulling it away as she spoke. "I suppose there can be no helping some people. Perhaps there's something you have involved with Caspar, I'm almost certain he would sleep on a bed of rocks if you managed to convince him that it would somehow strengthen his body."

"It would more than likely bruise his skin and-" He cut himself off at the look she sent him and his own sense catching up with him a moment later, mentally chiding himself for assuming she was being serious. Then he realised she had been speaking of the blue haired gibbon, the one who demonstrated a fixation similar to the large teenager in the Golden Deer. "A topic for another who might care for it."

"Hmmm." Dorothea hummed, placing her hands on her hips and looking him up and down for a moment, the look in her eyes was searching, though discerning her end goal was a little less clear to him. Perhaps she was merely stalling for time to consider another topic. Yet that was something that would be better suited for a later date, unless she was proficient in multitasking.

His eyes flickered to the fire that was starting to crackle a little brighter now, having been seen to the tender care of one Petra, it had been quick since she had slipped into the area and even less time since she had started to work on the flames. Her speed and skill denoted prior experience, it was something he could respect. Skill was skill and she had worked hard to raise this one.

Dorothea caught his focus, she turned to Petra for a moment and an odd look passed through her face before she cleared her throat, the younger teen paused for a moment and clearly angled herself to listen better as the brunette spoke. "I'm going to go and get some of the cooking utensils ready. Make sure everything is in order for when we start. I'll be back soon!" With a smile in his direction and a wave of the hand, she swiftly turned and moved back towards the direction of the horses.

His eyes lingered on her retreating figure for but a moment, then darted back towards Petra.

Her eyes moved from him in less than a second, but it might as well have been an eternity for the point of the move. She had still been caught staring at him, the sudden departure of Dorothea meant that there was something that the young girl wished to say and the former had retreated off under the guise of finding work to busy herself with.

A cursory glance to his surroundings.

The others were busy, for how long that would remain the case was dependent on their own abilities. For the time being, it was effectively himself and Petra.

"...I am understanding you are the speaking with-" The words were awkward and stilted, yet he said nothing as she paused and then put on a strained expression, her lips curled down for a moment before she restarted. "I understand you speak with Ashe recently in regards to his perished Father."

He kept silent, being reminded of that failed effort brought a wave of emotions back towards him. Though he did not show it - he had a long history of hiding his thoughts and feelings behind a mask, a gift of Solomon - he knew what he was feeling, attaching labels to them didn't quite feel the same but they were his.

Discomfort, for lack of a better word.

"I engaged him in a conversation some time ago." He replied with, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, keeping his voice measured as he did so. Words slow and clear. "The topic of the conversation related to Lord Lonato…and I understand you have held some strong feelings regarding it as well for some time."

A pause from Petra, she then glanced down to the fire in front of herself, halting her movements in the midst of adding more kindling for only a moment, then tossed the small twigs inside and nodded her head up and down.

Smarter than he would have given credit, she made no effort to deny. It would have been pointless but he appreciated her honesty.

"It was…Ashe was feeling troubled by the loss of his father. Even if they are a betrayal." Another pause. "Betrayer."

"Concern for one outside of your class and from an entirely different region of the continent?" There wasn't accusation in his tone, just intrigue. The connections that humans formed were rather bewildering to him, there was less than nothing to bring both Ashe and Petra together, from different ends of the social hierarchy and entirely different regions of the world with the only common fact shared between the two of them was attending the same school. Yet, here they were.

Petra turned to look him in the eyes, showing nothing but stern resolve. "Ashe is a friend to me. Friends care for the others feelings. Ashe was feeling bad and you…" there was a pause, she slowly looked down. "I did not like you for what happened. But I understand why it happened. Lonato would have perished regardless, but it hurt Ashe and you killed him in the most savage way."

His eyes flickered to his hand, noticing it had curled into a fist at the mention of the name, he grimaced and uncurled it, the movement was noticed by Petra as her eyes similarly flickered to the limb before back to his face. Neither of them said anything to the other for a moment, the silence stretched between them until he broke it.

"...It had not been my intention to bring trauma to him. Though Lonato is equally to blame, his effort to slay his own child predated my efforts to end his life." An explanation that seemed thin with the benefit of hindsight, humans were inherently illogical and were unable to disconnect from their connections. Lonato might have been capable of slaying Ashe, but the same could not be said for the child who remained so deeply connected with his father.

"Lonato would have died regardless, the manner of his death was one that…showing anger to me was illogical but expecting him to separate his past experiences from the reality would be foolish."

Petra furrowed her brows, thoughtful and then nodding in understanding. "I merely wanted to thank you for the speaking with him. I think this heart cut shall heal slowly but you started the process. I wanted to show gratitude for that."

It wasn't something to thank him for, he had been preying on the emotional state of a near traumatised boy in the hope they would serve his ends. Her gratitude was misplaced and if she knew the truth, he suspected that those looks she had sent him in the past would have been magnified many times over. Though to sow discord where none existed would serve no purpose.

"Ashe interpreted my words as he saw fit. I said what needed to be said and little else." A wave of the hand, he leaned back and closed his eyes as he did so. His palm rested flat on his lap. "Though I shall admit my surprise that it was you who brought this to me, I would have expected one of his own peers to thank me for this…" he cracked open an eye and stared down at her for a moment. "I neither condemn nor accuse, nothing more than surprise."

A rather blank stare from the girl, she inclined her head to the side for a moment before she spoke. "It would be strange if I only speak with those from Black Eagles. If I am to be a better leader for Brigid, then it would be best that all Fodlan is understood by me. That means those of the Golden Deer and Blue Lions."

"...Hmmm."

An interesting point of view of the situation, he supposed, and one that would suit her position well. It was expected of her though, given her position as the heir apparent to Brigid. Hardly as though she had much of a choice in the matter, considering the fact that they were a vassal state and if they ever hoped to become more than that, then greater awareness would be all the more necessary.

What little culture he learned of Brigid was hardly flattering, wood speakers and heretical rituals were perhaps some of the kinder words that were gifted to those in Brigid. Something in relation to shamanism, if he were to speculate.

A crack from the side drew his eye.

Whether by design or by coincidence, Dorothea had chosen that moment to return with a cast iron pot that would be used for stew, though that mattered little to him. What was of greater interest to him - as well as Petra who stopped her own movements - was the individual who was accompanying Dorothea as she made her way back to them.

The brunette masked her discomfort well, but even he could tell that she was rather on edge or perhaps a touch bemused by the situation she found herself in. Especially as Seiros was walking by her side with a small satchel bag with what he assumed was vegetables in one hand and in the other was a wooden board held flat with a knife placed atop it.

The expression on Seiros face was almost innocent was she walked over to them, briefly locking eyes with him and giving a single nod of greeting before she brought her focus back towards the fire.

A thought passed through his mind.

Both Dorothea and Seiros stopped walking as the earth beneath them writhed and shifted, dragging itself along and pulling up from the ground as though something pushed, the rising bulge flattened out into a block and then stopped moving. The pair stared at the newly formed seats and then turned their eyes towards him.

"Having proven myself capable of crafting seating, I would prefer to do without the accusations that I forced you to sit on the dirt floor."

Seiros raised an eyebrow "And I suppose a seat made from that same dirt makes all the difference?"

"For the sake of appearances, yes."

A gentle chuckle from the woman as she moved around the seat and placed herself down. "My words aside, thank you for this, Goetia. Though it was hardly necessary, I am accustomed to spending time in the wilderness and all that would be entailed with it." a pause as she placed the satchel down and rested the cutting board on her lap. "Though it has been some time since I assumed a role as simple as a cook, I can only hope my skills have not rusted."

Dorothea placed herself down in the seat next to her, the pot held awkwardly in her hands. Likely on account of her waiting for the others to set up the rest of the associated materials to actually suspend the pot above the fire,

He withheld a groan of annoyance, the earth shifted once more as it rose up around the flames, save for the single gap he left to allow for additional fuel to be placed into the flames. Rising half a metre upwards and with enough of a space at the top for the pot to be placed down without worrying about it falling down into the fire.

The sudden creation of the cooking furnace was just enough to put a touch of surprise on the faces of those around, namely from Petra which he attributed to proximity rather than genuine surprise, as for Dorothea she just turned her face towards him and raised a single knowing eyebrow. As though she was aware of some hidden secret that eluded him.

A grunt and he turned his head away from her expression, raising his arm up and placing his fist under his chin, closing his eyes as he did so. "Consider this assistance as a payment for your efforts in this task and nothing more. I would leave it to your own class but you have proven to be incapable of timing preparations to coincide."

He felt the stares at the side of his head, the doubt was almost palpable and he eventually cracked open an eye and glared towards them. To his deep annoyance, he was rewarded only with the expressions remaining the exact same, both Dorothea and Seiros wearing matching faces. That infernal knowing smirk shared between the two of them.

"Why are you even helping with the cooking, Rhea? It would be better served for the Black Eagles to craft their own food."

The woman hummed, not looking all that bothered by his sudden question or by his lack of formality with her. They were past such things at this point.

"You might well be correct, but seeing as how I did force this sudden turn of events upon them, it would be in poor form if I did not at least contribute to them in some capacity." She paused for a moment as she reached into the bag at her side, pulling out a vegetable at the same time that Dorothea placed the iron pot on top of the chimney oven he had constructed with a clunk. "I believed your manner of speech was most apt. Payment for efforts in this task."

Another innocent smile.

It was uncanny for him, he would have never thought of her doing something such as this before and yet here she was, preparing food for them.

"The Archbishop is cooking!?"

A shocked yell from somewhere, while Seiros briefly halted her work at the sudden volume he remained unaring, turning his attention to the voice as the blue haired gibbon came blundering his way back into the centre of camp with eyes better suited for an insect than a mammal, jaw held so low that he was sure they might dislocate it.

"I'm certain they didn't hear you all the way in Enbarr." A flat tone from Linhardt, the boy walked past his peer and seemingly uncaring. "Perhaps you should try and speak again a little louder. Just to be safe."

Caspar sent a look to him, then shook his head and waved an arm towards them and dropped his tone in what he might have believed was a whisper. If he did, then he believed wrong as he was still capable of understanding every single word he spoke without assistance. "B-but it's the Archbishop! How can you not be shocked by this?"

Linhardt paused for a moment, then made a small noise. "Don't be mistaken, I am rather surprised but I would hardly consider bellowing at the top of my lungs into the night to be an appropriate reaction."

Another flick of his mind.

Soon the camp was surrounded by benches made from the dirt, he'd already made an exception once so what did it matter if he did so again at this point? Better than having to contend with vexed looks from those who were excluded.

"See? Now that is something to actually be impressed about." Linhardt declared as he placed himself down on the seat and sounded suitably awed by his display of magical prowess, a flutter of pride shot through him. This was the sort of reaction that he should have been receiving rather than dispassionate acceptance. "Rapid alteration of the clay in the ground to become seating without even a chant or magical circle? It is incredible."

Caspar looked less impressed as they sent a look at the chair, they reached down and knocked their hand on it twice and then pulled it back. "...Isn't it just a chair made out of mud though? And it's Goetia." he waved a hand and spoke as though that was an explanation enough. "Isn't he always doing weird stuff like this in the first place?"

His brows crinkled just a touch.

Weird stuff?

"Ah, I see my efforts weren't needed." Another voice entered the fray, the ginger haired boy of the noble family. Ferdinand von Aegir. Their cordial tone lasted for all of a second before they took stock of what was before them and promptly locked up as they stared at the individuals cooking with wide eyes. "W-wha…Archbishop, I must insist that such tasks be handled by-"

"I am quite capable." Seiros interrupted him gently without even sparing him a glance, she paused in the midst of peeling before speaking again. "Though if you wish to lend us some assistance then I would not stop you. You would be surprised as to how useful cooking can be as a skill. In the past I found it rather comforting."

Whether Ferdinand was going to have an answer went unknown for the time being, Dorothea spoke up first and in a rather sweet tone of voice. A rather too sweet tone of voice to the point of being condescending. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Ferdie has delicate hands and I'd feel terrible if something ended up happening to them."

A puff of air shot out from his nose, none noticed.

Seiros paused for a moment, then glanced first at Dorothea and then towards Ferdinand before she returned her focus to her task.

Ferdinand somehow remained oblivious to the hidden message beneath and merely put on a patient smile. "I'm thankful for your concern but I couldn't live with myself if I allowed the Archbishop to dirty her hands and make my meal. It wouldn't be proper-"

"How fortunate we are that I am also here to dirty my hands, aren't we?"

That seemingly brought the boy for a loop before it rounded back on him, showing a semblance of intellect when he widened his eyes and brought his hands up in surrender. "That wasn't what I was implying, merely that I was fine with taking the place of the Archbishop. If you would similarly like to step back then I would be perfectly fine-"

Dorothea smiled again a little sharper. "I'm sure you care but I did volunteer for this just as you did for the tents." she paused for a moment and then nodded her head up and down. "It is best we all do our parts, regardless of our origin. If the Archbishop wants to cook, then it would be best if we respect her decision…Unless there's a problem?"

"W-well no but-that is to say-it is rather-" Ferdinand grimaced as he glanced from Dorothea and then towards the ground, seemingly searching for some manner of answer that would manage to free him from the proverbial graveyard he had dug for himself, though Goetia wasn't sure there was anything he could say at this point. It would be better for him to retreat.

Fortunate he was, that a reprieve came for him in the form of Petra.

"Is there a problem I am not seeing with the Archbishop helping with the food?" Rising from her crouched position, she looked around with clear confusion as she gestured to herself and then to the others. "We are all of important families and we are doing work. Sometimes my grandfather went on hunts. Is that considered a strange thing for a leader to do?"

"Hardly." The voice of Edelgard arrived a moment later as though she had been waiting, strolling forwards and past where Hubert had been standing and moving to one of the empty spaces. "A leader goes by example in all things. How else might they convince others that they would be worth following to begin with? Inherited power will only take one so far, I would imagine one must show competence in their role as well…"

The heiress paused, "That being said, I would similarly share with the doubts of Ferdinand. Not in your skill, merely in the notion that you are cooking for us. Whether it would be your intention or not, if word of this were to escape then the implications would be rather daming for those of the Black Eagle house…"

Perhaps her words had intended to warn Seiros away from it and indeed, they carried with them a very real possibility of future problems for those of the Adrestian Empire. Not least of all because the mere idea of the Archbishop preparing food for her own escort would be considered a laughable notion until it was proven right. Not that he cared much for it but it would harm those for allowing such a thing to occur.

Seiros, meanwhile, was utterly and rather predictably undaunted by the potential threat and instead had the nerve to maintain her current disposition, which then shifted into something he would have assumed to be conspiratorial as she spoke in a sly tone of voice and shrugged her shoulders. "Then perhaps it would be best if we kept this as a little secret, I doubt the Goddess would consider it a sin for me to provide aid to my own protectors."

"Leave her to her choices." He called out, more irritated at the increasing intensity of the argument, drawing looks to himself as he did so. Adjusting himself in the chair and straightening upright, keeping his face measured as he did so. "She will not be dissuaded and continuing this discussion is nothing more than an effort in futility. Accept what has occurred else none shall ever receive their food."

Edelgard looked him up and down, it lasted less than a second and something moved through her gaze as she did so, then let out a low hum before her attention fell back onto Seiros. "By the sounds of things, Goetia speaks truly and nothing shy of taking the tools from the hands of the Archbishop will put an end to this. I believe that we will be forced to accept this act of kindness and conform to the Archbishops wishes that it remain a secret."

That put an end to it, the final words from Edelgard were seemingly enough to put an end to the dissenting opinions. Either spurred on by hunger or by her authority, the rest of the class fell into line around the campfire, soon accompanied by Hanneman once he had finished his surveying of the tents.

Shamir stayed on the outskirts a good distance from them and Anna had established her own tent with her own food supplies. Likely to avoid being in debt to the Black Eagles in any capacity.

"Still though, does anyone else find this surprising?" He heard the faint whisper of Caspar from their seated position, his eyes moved to the blue boy still speaking with the visibly less than interested Linhardt. "Where did the Archbishop even learn to cook in the first place?"

"Making assumptions based upon physical appearances or their place in society is folly approaching the height of stupidity."

It took him a second to realise the camp had fallen silent.

It took him a moment longer to understand that it had been his words which silenced them.

A sigh moved through his mind as he realised what he had effectively invited, but it was better to dissuade them of these foolish notions now. The thought of someone making the same mistake as he was almost too humiliating to consider. His eyes moved towards the boy whose words had prompted this from him.

"You will find that people are capable of surprising you, regardless of the position they hold in society. One can never correlate competence with status."

Silence.

Then a single voice. "A curious choice of words, Goetia. Ones that might be easily misunderstood in a different context." Edelgard hummed as she leaned forwards, resting her arms on his knees and inclining a single eyebrow at him. "Perhaps an elaboration."

His eyes closed as he leaned back, withholding the sigh that threatened to escape his throat as he considered her question.

"An elaboration into what?" He quizzed with a grunt. "The merits of not underestimating the capabilities of an individual based on appearance? You would not make such a mistake in combat so I do not see why such reasoning should not go elsewhere."

A moment of silence, then he opened his eyes and looked between each of them. "Unless you are going to argue with me, the merits of assuming that you will go into every single fight and win purely because you are nobles and your opponents may - more often than not - be of common backgrounds?"

"Uhm…" Caspar coughed from his location, bringing his hand up and scratching the side of his head, a look of confusion on his features. "I was more just wondering when the Archbishop had time to learn how to cook…doesn't she have other people to do that sort of thing for her?"

Seiros answered that. "I was not always the Archbishop, I spent much of my youth on the move as it were. Learning how to cook became something of a much needed skill. Even when I began my time in the clergy, I still maintained that pastime." her expressions turned forlorn. "It is merely that since becoming Archbishop I have lacked the time to indulge in this little distraction."

"Ah, that makes sense." Caspar nodded his head up and down, mollified by the answer he had received.

He assumed that was when the conversation would be drawn to a close, perhaps it was foolish of him to assume so as Edelgard cleared her throat, dragging his eyes back towards her as she fixed him with a rather peculiar little look.

"Returning to the point you just said, I can understand the value of not underestimating one in combat, but why would you claim this can be extended outside of it?" She caught onto that vague little hint, did she? Hm. "Your phrasing makes it sound as though there are other situations were someone might surprise you depending on their class."

A roll of his eyes. "Humans are humans. Regardless of their origin, they begin at the same point at zero. With the right stimuli and education, an individual born of a common background would be just as capable in governing as one born into a Noble family. Whatever genetic differences that exist - even those of a crest - are nothing more than imagined powers."

Dead silence.

"...Imagined powers?" Seiros tone was flat, the eyes of the camp drifted towards her. "And what would you mean by that, Goetia?"

"Crests as mere icons of status and little else. If they were truly the be all and end all, then House Nuvelle would not be in ruin and the head of the family would not currently be forced to live in a slum in a cave." He blandly replied to her, something she understood if her hum and nod of the head was any indication, going back to her work a moment later without arguing the point.

"That is…" Ferdinand made a small noise as he leaned forwards. "That is hardly something that can be…" his speech was strange, likely attempting to think of a method by which he could get his point across. "I would very much wish to debate the topic with you on the differences between commoners and nobles-"

He shut that down. "You are not a separate species, just individuals forged from different lifestyles. I am not suggesting you are all identical and that the Noble class is pointless, merely that a commoner might be capable of similar feats as a noble if the right circumstances were to present themselves."

"Perhaps." Ferdinand admitted. "The presence of commoner students in the academy does support your words, but I would argue that the times in which those circumstances arrive are all too often few and far between." he leaned forwards, thinning his lips. "We are all humans, yes, but there are stark contrasts between us."

Another roll of his eyes. "Debating the topic with you is pointless. It is a system you have benefited from and has been practised for millennia. All I stated was that it would be foolish to instantly assume that just because one was born of a common family, that you could underestimate them. It is a mistake that can prove…costly."

"Is that how you lost your arm?"

Silence once more.

The attention of the camp whirled onto Caspar - even Serios snapped her head up with disbelief - the boy in question abruptly froze at the attention of the camp falling onto him within the span of a single second. Not one person said a single word, trapped in the shock of what he had just blurted out, something that even he likely couldn't comprehend.

Goetia just stared at him, his lips gradually started to curl downwards and his brows started to furrow together as the question repeated in his mind. He nearly scoffed openly at them for speaking something so profoundly stupid to him. "That should have gone without saying. Or are you implying that I would somehow be capable of losing my arm in anything other than a momentary case of negligence?"

Caspar winced at his sentence, looking as though he may have wanted to speak further - perhaps offer an apology for his crude manner of speech - but he continued onwards before he even had the chance to.

"Yes."

A blunt admission.

"That is obviously how I lost my arm. Because I was foolish and I underestimated my opponent, which they naturally took advantage of. I had thought it was something that went without saying given the nature of the conversation but clearly I expected too much from you if you required me to verbally confirm my own experience."

He pushed himself off the chair, rising to his feet and giving a cursory glance towards the direction of the blue haired boy, they withered under his blank gaze.

"Imbecile."

He was not usually so aggressive but something about that comment might have triggered his pride just a touch. He'd gone weeks without thinking of Fujimaru and the events which led to his current condition. It was an honest question, but a later time would have been better…perhaps.

A moment of silence, his eyes swerved away from the young man and towards the red of the assembled camp, gleaming over each and every single one of them before he spoke up once again. "Naturally, if someone such as myself can be bested due to a single act of improperly gauging the capabilities of someone, then it goes without saying that the same is guaranteed to occur with each of you. Whether it be in conflict or other matters."

Turning from the camp, he started to walk into the brush without waiting for anyone else to offer some form of rebuttal to him. His mind tuned out the conversations of the camp as he moved at a steady pace, clearing the distance and entering the bush within the span of a few seconds.

Whether someone spoke after that made little difference to him, perhaps they might have done but he wasn't paying attention to them. Instead seeking out something which had been nipping at his senses for a little over an hour by now and hadn't gone away. He was investigating the source of this disturbance, certainly not spurred by the reminder of Fujimaru Ritsuka.

He just kept walking, pushing aside whatever was in front of him with his remaining arm as he closed in on whatever had been the source of the disturbance. It had yet to shift from the spot as he grew closer and closer, sweeping his arm and batting aside a low hanging branch as he did so. His eyes closed and he withheld a sigh as droplets of water flickered onto his face the moment he did so.

His eyes opened back up, they turned on the branch with a touch of moisture clinging to its leaves.

It became dust in the next moment, decaying away within an instant and its remains being carried away into the wind, the water which had touched him hissed and steamed away at the same time.

A grunt, he turned his focus from the tree once more and mentally snarled at the reflex action he had taken. It was pointless and childish as well, very nearly animalistic to just strike out at whatever had wounded him. The snarl in the back of his throat was suppressed, he waved his hand and brought forth growth from the ruined branch once more, the new bud sprouting outwards and being replaced.

He brought his hand up and placed it flat against his face, sighing into it as he did so.

"Weeks I had gone without even thinking about him at all. Months where he was barely even a topic in my mind save for a few choice moments and then it was dragged back up." He spoke as he pulled his arm down, turning to the one who had been making to approach him from behind. "I am not in need of your words of comfort and I do not need to be reminded of my own foolishness. I have a constant reminder without it being thrown back into my face."

Seiros raised her hand "It was more along the lines of asking if you would still be interested in dining with them or if you would prefer to eat alone."

"Sequester myself in the woods as the students eat? I'm not a child and I'm not going to sulk because someone spoke some words to me." He snapped back at her, she didn't so much as flinch at his tone of voice which quickly became tired to match his mood. "He only asked what they were speculating. It was obvious my words were born of experience, that blue haired fool only asked because he allowed his intrusive thoughts to claim victory."

He stopped, then lowered his arm to the side and felt the frown grow on his face as he considered another angle. Something else worth considering in the grand scheme of things beyond his…emotional outburst.

"And you abandoned your post much too quickly. There might be rumours in regards to our meetings."

Seiros cocked an eyebrow. "Are you the type to be put on alert through mere rumours?" she lowered her hands "And at this stage, consorting with you would be the very least of the sins I have committed. Besides, it could be just as easily described that I am soothing your wounded spirit with the words of the Goddess."

"I've heard her words, they are far from soothing." He muttered under his breath, then turned away from the phantasmal and continued his walk towards the base of the next tree and looked downwards. "And my departure was provoked by other factors beyond that boy blurting out the first thought that entered his mind."

A hum from behind him, Seiros didn't sound all that convinced. "As you say."

"Believe as you will." He crouched down and peeled the debris back and pulled his hand back, inclining his head and narrowing his eyes at the shape that rustled through the leaf litter. "The bounded field I constructed while the students were busying themselves with camp was intruded and the emotional distress of said intruder was starting to weigh on my mind rather heavily to the point of becoming a gnat. One I would be rid of."

Crunches of steps on the floor approaching from behind him, the presence of Seiros fell over him as she looked down at what had captured his attention. The pair of them stared at the shivering form of some manner of avian infant on the ground surrounded by mangled remnants of twigs and little else. A nest of sorts that had been blown out by the wind with a single survivor remaining.

The small infant bird shivered as it nestled it's ruffled puffy feathers closer for what little warmth it could get. Though he doubted it would do much more than delay the inevitable.

"Oh." Seiros let out a saddened noise behind him. "An Imperial Banner Finch."

"...A what?"

"Have you not encountered one before?"

"Would I have expressed confusion if I had?"

"Hm." A grunt from the phantasmal. "They grow to have bright red feathers with golden wings. Their chests sometimes have a rather beautiful pattern on them. Because of the colouration, they are known as Imperial Banner finches."

"...Common in the Empire then?"

"You only get them around the Empire." Seiros explained "Though that is my own words, I have never truly thought more of it."

He hummed in acceptance and pushed himself back to his feet, it would be dead soon and the parents would likely replace it swiftly with another collection of spawn and move to a new location. In the end, the death of it and its siblings would amount to very little. A breath escaped him as he turned around and faced Serios, who similarly pulled her eyes from the small bird. "We can return to camp. I have calmed myself and regardless of your personal feelings, you have a reputation to consider."

Seiros offered a ghost of a smile. "You seem rather more concerned with my reputation in recent days."

"More so than you, it seems." He shot back instantly. "What does that say for the political climate of Fodlan that some heathen foreign mage is somehow more concerned with your personal reputation than you are?"

A shrug from the woman. "Perhaps you are quite right in that regard." she turned around and started to walk away from him. "And there is the matter of the food I left unattended. It would be best I return before my role is stolen out from beneath me. I have enough dignity left to avoid begging for that."

He was sceptical.

He took a single step forward.

A faint cheap, so silent that he barely even noticed, reached his ears. He stopped and turned around, staring down at the owner of the noise.

The finch continued to shiver.

He brought up his hand and pointed a finger at it, the tip of the digit started to glow. It would be a mercy if he ended it here, before it either succumbed to the cold or was dragged away by predators. It would be the kinder option.

Another cheep.

The light at the end of his finger died, the limb fell back to his side.

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

What had become of him that he was really going to go through with this?

His eyes lingered on the small bird.

There might be some value from this distraction, at least a meagre amount.