ulircursed
➵ set me free
from the curse of brigid
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"I would hardly call this fatherhood, or family," Andrei protests, "This is just a bird, nothing more." A pet, would be the correct label. Less crucial to his existence than even his steed.
And yet... Good job. Startled gaze meets Lambert's as the older man looks at him with an expression of pride, and for a moment, Andrei sees his own father's face.
(I'm proud of you. Something he's always wished for. Something he had never deserved. Will never deserve, because of his actions.)
He ducks his head at the sudden prickling at his eyes. It is merely because of his exhaustion, he tells himself firmly, but carefully keeps his gaze averted at the professor's offer. "It's fine," he replies, his voice just a little rougher than normal as he looks down at the sleeping hatchling, "This is my own responsibility."
The professor speaks of a child of his own, then, the sudden fondness in his voice too genuine to be a lie fabricated for Andrei's benefit. I have no memories of myself, he'd said before. Is the bond of true fatherhood so strong as to overcome that so naturally?
Andrei would not know.
The hand that ruffles his hair, usually vehemently unwelcome, now proves a desired distraction, and Andrei finally trusts his own control enough to peer up at the smiling face. "...Its name is Cranberry," he admits, only slightly grudging. He supposes the good thing about a pet is that its ridiculous name is easier to accept than a warhorse's. "And before you ask, I was not the one who named him," he still feels the need to add, nonetheless.
It's been two days, and already Andrei finds himself missing when Cranberry was an egg.
His fragile charge has grown into a creature no less fragile, but with many more needs. Cranberry, at such a young age, seems to require more attention than he expected. First and foremost, he needs to keep it fed and watered at all times, snapping awake multiple times in the middle of the night at the sound of its high-pitched calls.
And speaking of which...
"I apologize for any disruption that might occur," Andrei says to Professor Lambert, a rare, sheepish expression on his exhausted features as he sets the basket containing the young pigeon down on the desk before him. Having just been fed a fingertip-full of tiny seeds, Cranberry is currently satisfied and silent, but the past 48 hours of experience tells Andrei it will be very short-lived.
"It hatched the day before yesterday," he adds in explanation. While the older man had seen Andrei carrying the basket around — he couldn't exactly leave it in the cold dormitory room while attending to his duties for the day, after all — it would be the first time he is met with the sight of the hatchling, eyes still closed, burrowed into its nest of warm furs. "I will attempt to train it to be quieter as soon as it is capable of understanding such a concept."
Lambert had noticed Andrei’s behavior looking a little odd these days. Coming and going, oftentimes with this…admittedly cute basket on his arm. At first the teacher thought it must be just a personal ritual of sorts, or perhaps he had his own ways of running errands, so he never bothered to confront his student about it.
Now however, he sees the reason. Bundled in furs, sitting within that basket.
“...oh.” The blond archer placed the basket on the desk, and as soon as Lambert leaned in to peek at what was inside- he was presented with a tiny silhouette. Far too lanky and small to be that of a finch or even a fledgeling. Its skin was pink, body and wings mostly naked with only the mere suggestion of yellow fluff serving as a coat. The little thing was fast asleep, eyes closed in a dreamy bliss. “Oh, it is stupidly cute.”
It was so, so small.
Lambert smiled. “...so all this time you became a father and did not tell your teacher? You are a cruel man, Andrei.” He said jokingly, keeping his tone low so as to not disturb the little creature. People caring for strays within the Abyss wasn’t anything new- many cats and dogs get discarded around the mountain, left to die, and the inhabitants of the Abyss step in to nurture and care for them.
But there was something more special in this, Lambert felt. “Pigeons live for a long time, and you have hatched this one straight from the egg…it is your family now. Congratulations, both for your efforts in caring for the egg and taking such responsibility upon your shoulders.” He placed both hands on Andrei’s shoulders, looking at him as a proud father would. “Good job.”
Then, blue pools returned to the little baby bird, still asleep. “Please, do not worry about noise. Human babies are born only knowing how to cry and eat and sleep, it is not different for a baby bird. Besides, they are just little chirps and screeches. This is no screaming eagle.” Lambert spoke as if from experience, something that surprised himself. “I volunteer, however, to spare you from the full first-time father experience. Whenever you want to get a full night of sleep, come to me and I shall care for the little one so you can rest.”
“Did it once, it will not hurt to do it twice.”
The words escaped his mouth before he even got to think much about them. This feeling of familiarity with caring for a child far too young to even open their eyes, by himself. Nights spent awake, cradling a crying infant on his own, exhausted but heart still filled with love and patience. Warm, so very fragile and helpless, slightly annoying and screaming- but precious.
Lambert let out a sigh, realization slowly setting in- filling him with uncertainty and anxiety. But he chose to chuckle it off instead, ruffling Andrei’s head. “Your kid reminded me of the horrors of having to change a diaper, feel lucky that birds do not have a need for those- and that they are not stinky either.”
"What did you name it, anyway?"
Memory unlocked!
#egittae#➵ cranberry#congrats we can both use this for mastery :'D#➵ lambert 01#but yeah confused son feelings AND confused father feelings....... this is too much for andrei in one sitting ok he is Stressed sobs
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((added a little blurb to andrei's stats page about cranberry! it is at the bottom of the inventory tag, and every post about him has also been tagged and linked for anyone interested!
annnnnd this is where i put out a little mini ask-call! anyone interested in interacting with cranberry through an ask, please like this post and i will send my boy and his son over at some point. warning that if i get more than. three likes. they might take a while, but i will def do my best to get to everyone!
(if you want to interact with the bird in a particular stage of life, then please specify in the comments and i will send it when he reaches that stage! he is a hatchling now and andrei will not let just anyone touch him, only watch from a respectful distance, so if your muse wants to play with cranberry then let me know so i can send the ask when he grows up a little more! if you don't specify then i will decide on a time for them!!)
thank you guys for all the love for cranberry!! it's brought me so much joy ehehe))
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The sun had risen by the time Andrei enters the grounds of the monastery, and he walks the length of the dormitories, at a loss to where he should head. There's no sign of Naesala — not that he exactly expects to run into him the moment he emerges aboveground — but then he sees white wings ahead.
Hastening towards the figure, he sees the other's face as he approaches. One distantly familiar, part of a memory tinged with the pain of loss.
"Oh, you're... Reyson." The name does not come as easily to him as the image seared into his mind. Of the once-winged man, dripping crimson as he stumbles into the raven's arms, life extinguishing before their very eyes. He suppresses a shudder, even as discomfort churns in his gut. "You are Naesala's—"
(Someone of irreplaceable importance. Neither Keranes nor anyone at the village had explicitly said so, but it had become clear in the end, hadn't it? Even if he had been capable of watching Lady Sister Brigid fall to the poison of his making, that does not make her less important to him. It simply made him irredeemable.)
Another insistent squeal from Cranberry jolts him out of his thoughts, and Andrei realizes belatedly that he'd trailed off into silence for a few moments. "My apologies," he shakes his head, refocusing on the request at hand, "I am looking for him — Naesala, that is. He said he would help me with..." He gestures at the tiny, newborn bird nestled in the basket, eyes still closed even as it continues to squall. Is it out of hunger, or some other discomfort?
Though, he supposes, this man (laguz? he thinks is the word Naesala had once called himself) should be just as capable of communicating with the bird as Naesala is. Time is of the essence, and he cannot risk the pigeon's survival being compromised as he runs around attempting to locate the raven. Cautiously, Andrei holds out the basket towards Reyson.
"Actually... will you tell me what it is saying? What does it need?"
@reprisalet annnd @corvuschriisti later on!!
two and a half birds
#reprisalet#corvuschriisti#as a fellow heron writer please always feel free to utilize any of andrei's emotions/thoughts!! he is an open book available for perusal#also someone pls tell him his son is a boy bird otherwise he will use 'it' forever :'D#➵ two and a half birds#i should make a tag for the cranberry saga huh#➵ cranberry
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Andrei's eyes open, blinking away the haze of sleep as he turns towards the door. The length of the flickering candle on the wall telling him it's nearly morning, but not quite. It's not a nightmare that had woken him, so what could—
Crack.
All thoughts of sleep immediately flees him as his gaze whips to the basket sitting on the bedside table, at the egg laying atop the furs lining the basket.
The egg that now has a sizeable crack lining its width, almost like a split grin.
As Andrei watches, there is another soft crack, the grin widening a sliver as the occupant of the egg moves within the shell. He sinks to the floor by the bed, eyes level with the basket, and stays in that position, observing the process.
It takes longer than he expects, the slight movement every few seconds punctuated by stretches of silence in between. Fingers hover over the egg hesitantly, before withdrawing. All birds must hatch by their own power, isn't that right?
After an achingly long time, it finally tumbles out of the shell altogether in one motion, a tiny, bright pink little thing with a sparse covering of yellow feathers and pieces of broken eggshell stuck to its body. In the candlelight, he could just make out a pair of wings, a beak, a pair of eyes, tightly shut.
"...Cranberry," Andrei breathes, the name suddenly all too fitting for the newborn.
Then, a high-pitched squeal from the hatchling sends him immediately to his feet, and Andrei, basket in hand, is out of the door and heading towards the tunnel that leads out of the Abyss before any of the others in the dormitory could wake. The thought that he now had, not an egg, but a real, live, very small and vulnerable bird on his hands just now dawning in his mind.
He needs to go find Naesala immediately.
Congratulations! The egg has hatched!
#i'm gonna go out on a limb and say that#andrei as a noble raised in a time and setting where pigeons are still useful for communication esp in wartime#and for whom pigeon was the very first idea to come to mind when asked about what pet he'd like to have#would have roughly the same pre-research knowledge as someone in the 21st century with access to the internet#and a reasonable interest in animals not specific to pigeons#so i'll base his knowledge on what i knew about pigeons two weeks ago before i fell down the research hole in preparation for cranberry#➵ taking the reins (drabble)#➵ cranberry
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The sound of Naesala's conviction is nearly overwhelming for a moment, and Andrei quickly averts his gaze, focusing on the egg once more. The healing spell that warms his own hand comes nearly second nature to him at this point, the only method he could muster to keep his charge alive.
He may have nothing else to offer, but...
Determination. Perhaps that is truly something Naesala can sense from the egg. At least, Andrei wishes to believe it.
"...Thank you," he mutters without looking up. For the favor, certainly, so easily agreed to despite the lack of forewarning (and somehow Naesala had become someone he could count on in dire straits), but also for the confidence that he himself could not provide.
It's going to hatch, spoken like a blessing.
Fingertips stroke along the smooth, speckled shell of the egg. Perhaps, this time and with aid, he could find a way to succeed.
—end.
a summary of babysitting duty.
[POST BOEL MINI] - Andrei & Naesala, returning the egg.
#godparent status officially achieved :sparkles: congrats naesala#stay tuned for the Hatchening in... soon. maybe a week's time or something idk aldkfj#before leanne's birthday definitely#meanwhile cranberry is being fed all of andrei's heal spell slots every day he's gonna grow up to be impervious to bird illnesses :'D#➵ naesala 03#corvuschriisti#➵ cranberry
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"I wouldn't go so far as to call us useless," Andrei says with a scowl as he lowers his hand, immediately defensive at the use of such a word.
(He cannot be useless. He is not allowed to be useless. If he is useless, then—)
Naesala's sudden stop jerks Andrei out of his frenetic thoughts, and he turns, straining his ears to listen. Even as he prides himself on his hunter's senses, it takes several seconds of silence before he could faintly make out what the raven had long noticed.
Footsteps. Footsteps, and the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard.
"The instructor," he breathes, looking to Naesala, then towards the direction of their exit, still in the distance, with who knows how many traps between them. Running the length blindly is not an ideal choice, but likely one of the very few open to them at the moment.
And they would have to remain together for the duration of it. Without conscious thought, Andrei places his hand on the raven's elbow, taking a few silent steps forward. The pursuing footsteps are still far, still slow, but likely not for long.
𝙞'𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡.
[RECOVERY] - Sword +1 w/Andrei
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It must be somehow Naesala's fault, Andrei thought bitterly, that his hair has become such a topic of conversation these days.
No, he knew that's not true. This man, their new 'professor', had come to the Abyss not too long ago, and immediately proved difficult to place. His tone and movements seemingly marked him as at least among the nobility, but the open, jovial attitude paired with a lack of mentioned connection to his past was... jarring, to say the least.
Every man is allowed his secrets, he supposed.
The first question was a serious one, and as the 'student' in this situation, Andrei had no choice but to take him seriously. "It depends on where I am and what circumstances I find myself in," he replied in clipped tones, "On my own, with a bow, means of procuring water and plenty of game available, I daresay I can last some time. Should I have a steed with me, it will require more resources, but my priority in such a case should be to return to civilization with my increased travel distance."
He suppressed a twitch at the professor's comments. Surely, it is not intended as a preface to the second question. "As for the subject of my hair, I assure you that it is no bother," he replied with the utmost stiffness in his voice, "I have long become accustomed to performing the full range of battlefield motions with my hair in exactly this manner." There was a long pause. "...Professor."
feeling (hello mr new professor man :eye:)
71. mischievous
“I will ask you two things, answer both objectively.” Lambert crossed his arms against his chest, staring at the fellow blond man.
He raised his index finger. “The first- how many days are you able to go on in the wilderness without any aid or support from a third party?”
Then, another finger. “Second, who cut your hair?”
A pause, then he broke into a light laugh. “I jest, I jest. Though I must say that whoever did it is a master with the blade, no split ends in sight. Impressive in its own merit.” He sighed, allowing himself to loosen up slightly. This man was one of his new students, by the name Andrei. At first Lambert was confused as to why he was there- he seemed like a seasoned soldier, but he quickly reminded himself that there existed no reason to refuse education regardless of a person’s abilities.
“I shall admit that at first I was rather nervous at the idea of teaching people here, mainly after seeing how many of my students seem to be quite knowledgeable themselves, you included. I thought to myself, ‘what could I even teach them to begin with when they already seem so skilled?’, but then I figured there is always a different way to learn something you already know. I must remind myself of that.” He took a moment to better look at Andrei. Something in the fellow man felt…almost familiar, but not enough to push his brain into trying to wander through fog.
“…I still think you should get a slicked back ponytail of sorts when riding a mount into battle, though. Unless getting hair inside your mouth and your bangs inside your eyes is part of the strategy you got in your mind."
#hope u don't mind the reply!! i thought it was funny lkajf#andrei trying to figure out how to say LEAVE ME AND MY HAIR ALONE in a respectful way#he hates that this now has to be part of his skillset :crylaugh:#honestly tho pls pls force him to get a ponytail prof lambert#he does need it he just doesn't admit it#egittae
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🧃 “Good job out there dear! Take a break and rest up for a bit now.”
Andrei remembers this same member of the faculty from the previous year, handing out juice boxes. And while she had not introduced her own name either time, he could hazard a guess that this is the 'Miss Camilla' that Ewan had mentioned.
Speaking of Ewan... Andrei shifts surreptitiously, hiding the remains of one finished juice box, as well as the two yet untouched ones, that he had received from the boy. It is quite clear he isn't meant to have more than one, hence the reason for Ewan's plea for secrecy.
"...Thank you," he says to Camilla, accepting the juice from her with a practiced bow of his head. Natural and assured, like this is nothing out of the ordinary. He holds the neutral look until she leaves... before placing the juice among his pile, faint amusement overtaking his expression. It is certainly not an unpleasant feeling to receive special consideration, though...
...Perhaps it is time to leave the medical tent, before anyone else comes along.
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Another icicle trails him as he escapes, Andrei turning with wide eyes — too slow to react —
Then an expanse of black feathers covers his vision, the ice breaking into sparkling shards against Naesala's wing before falling to the ground. When no further attack comes, he merely stands still for a moment as Naesala laughs, continuing the conversation as though nothing had happened.
How could he just…?
Right. Right. Composure. Andrei takes a deep breath, gathering his wits about him.
“Hardly,” he says, and manages to hide the shakiness in his voice, a glance back at the clearing they had run from, then at the wing that had stretched out to protect him. “I— though, perhaps... I had underestimated your abilities. Here."
His gesture with his remaining hand remains uncertain, and Andrei is sure the effects are all but minimal, but the white glow of his healing spell runs itself over Naesala’s wing, undoing some of the superficial damage the ice had caused. A paltry repayment for saving his life, but all he can manage at the moment.
"I will not be able to draw my weapon, with this injury," he admits quietly. Not that they were expected to attack their pursuers, merely escape however they are able, but he still feels vulnerable, exposed, without his means of defense.
They would need to finish this exercise as quickly as they could.
𝙞'𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡.
[RECOVERY] - Sword +1 w/Andrei
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Truthfully, Andrei does not care deeply one way or another. Seeking justice for something so baffling and ultimately inconsequential is not his usual inclination, but the expectations of the crowd upon seeing him as a part of the monastery had forced him into action before he’d truly begun to contemplate his choices. Now that they’d already succeeded in apprehending the perpetrator, however, it wouldn't do to leave without seeing this through.
"We will get our answers as soon as he is questioned, I suppose."
Their target dismounts as they approach, hands raised as he eyes the arrowtip pointed at him with a wary look. It is fortunate that he does not struggle further, Andrei thinks. If the conflict had escalated beyond this, if blood had to be spilled… he is not certain how far his actions can go while still being deemed acceptable in the eyes of the monastery.
Now that the scuffle has calmed, the owner of the fruit stall gladly aids in tying up the man none too gently. Once he is secured, Andrei lowers his weapon, taking the end of the rope and motioning the owner to walk before them.
“It would be… appreciated if you would aid in explaining the situation to those at the monastery,” he says to Knoll. Having a member of staff — at least, a person in better standing with the Knights — present would hopefully stave off many uncomfortable questions.
ashes to ashes
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Ailell, the Valley of Torment, is said to have once been used as a training grounds for monks as well as a place for the Goddess to burn corrupt maidens with her heavenly light... [Grants Faith +1]
Andrei had never counted himself among the devout. The descension of dragons as part of his homeland’s history is undeniable — his own life, Ullr’s blood running through his veins, is proof of that, even if the gods had not looked with favor upon his existence. Despite that (or perhaps because of it), he had never been able to begin to see the merit of devoting his life to the cloth like Edain had.
Fódlan’s ‘Goddess’ is no different. While he has no particular reason to doubt her existence, there is nothing he would need to do with her, and he doubts she would ever have any particular quarrel with a pair of foreigners like himself and Tharja either. He supposes, to that end, that divine judgment would not be on their list of worries during the exploration of the land of legend.
Still, the environment here is unrelentingly harsh, and even on the outskirts of the valley, where they had met with the mages of House Daphnel, Andrei could feel the heat bursting from the earth and warping the landscape. It made the cooling sensation of the spell all the more of a relief — with a glow of ice-blue light, the heatwave had been replaced with a gentle breeze, and they had been sent on their way.
“We have two hours,” he reminds Tharja as they begin their trek into the heart of the valley, “Before the spell begins to lose its potency. Best glean what information we can before we run out of time.”
@searingenvy
hellfire / salvation
[showcase] — faith +1
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“What do you mean, I don’t like other people’s relationships?” Andrei demands, giving his niece a look that borders on offense, “Just because I do not comment upon things that matter little to me does not mean I dislike them.”
In truth, such things rarely, if ever, cross his mind, even back in Jugdral. He would keep tabs on the marriages between noble houses, of course, but that is a necessary part of his station. Details like romantic dalliances were of no particular significance, and never really made much of an impression upon him.
Which is not to say that he never cared about any kinds of relationships, as she seems to be implying. “For instance, you are not ‘other people’, and the future relationship you form does matter to me.” Whatever sentiment present in his words is offset by the lecturing tone he adopts as he shakes his head, “And it is my opinion that you could do much better than some foolish man who would fall for something like this.”
The state of House Yngvi might have changed much between his time and hers, but Andrei certainly hopes their name is still worth more than some rich buffoon without any sense in his brain whose looks are the only thing taken into Patricia’s consideration.
giving love a bad name
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There is a routine to Andrei's life in Fódlan that he has learned to be content with. The lack of obligation weighing upon his shoulders might have been disorienting at first, but the degree of freedom it has offered him is surprisingly appreciated. Whether he remains in the Abyss or ventures aboveground for the day, he is generally able to choose how he spends his time.
That is, he was, until someone saw fit to grab him and drag him through the grounds of the monastery before he could even get a word in edgewise.
"W-what is the meaning of this?" He finally splutters out, tearing his hand from her grasp the moment he realizes her intention is to bring him into the forest. Dusting himself off, he glares distrustingly at the girl — a student, judging from her uniform, and more importantly an utter stranger. One who hadn't even seen fit to introduce herself before recruiting him for an unexplained 'job'.
What could possibly be so urgent that she felt the need to make her request in such an impertinent manner?
"I will give you one chance to explain yourself," Andrei warns, arms crossed both in indignation and to prevent her from getting a firm grip on him again, "If it does not end up worth my while, I am leaving."
Teach me how to 360 no scope
#cutestrival#➵ luna 01#hope u don't mind this april fools inspired character tag dkfajd i figured this would be a good way to separate the two muses#since andrei has also interacted with selena (fe8) before
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What a terrible introduction into fatherhood.
Naesala's grin doesn't even falter as he utters those words. They are in jest, not meant to be anything deep — consciously, Andrei knows this. Yet it does not stop the damning force that slams into him from such an accusation.
His mask slips, and for a moment there is only a crestfallen expression on his face.
This is merely a bird, a small animal that he had not chosen to own, given unto him by someone he could barely call an acquaintance. By any human standard, this is no child of his. But all the same, the old fear reignites, flames fanned by Naesala's comments.
For he had failed before, and there is no guarantee it will not happen again, no matter what the choices he takes.
(And you do not wish to fail again, do you?)
"Fine," he says, voice slightly hoarse, "Cranberry, then."
Would this choice make a difference? Naesala seems to think so, and Andrei is distinctly aware that he himself is not the one to be trusted in this situation. He attempts to tool his expression into one that is more neutral and businesslike, and mostly succeeds.
"If—" if it survives, if he does not fail, "—it hatches, I will seek out your assistance again. You and your friend."
a summary of babysitting duty.
[POST BOEL MINI] - Andrei & Naesala, returning the egg.
#corvuschriisti#➵ naesala 03#i love thinking about andrei's extremely :woozy_face: thoughts about parenthood#➵ cranberry
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march activity check
status - passed
total points - 70 → 73
skill point allocation:
monthly: faith (C ½ → C+)
event participation (boel 2024): flying (B → B ½)
thread: the joy of connection / finished (2036 words) / authority (B → B ½)
acquired (boel 2024): goddess' favor
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Cran—
"Are you being serious??" Andrei demands, incredulous. The realization that Buttermilk may not, in fact, be the only animal in his life with a food-based name is not something he can so quickly accept as irreversible truth.
"Your name isn't—" —ridiculous— "—some food word," he says accusingly. In fact, out of all the bird people names he'd heard so far — Naesala, Reyson, Leanne — they all sounded relatively normal. Foreign, certainly, but not out of the realm of names he could imagine given to humans.
Is bird culture truly so different from bird people culture??
"You decided on the name just now." While there is a note of demand in his tone, it also hovers as dangerously close to flat-out whining as Andrei ever allows it to. "Just decide on another name. One that's more... dignified."
a summary of babysitting duty.
[POST BOEL MINI] - Andrei & Naesala, returning the egg.
#corvuschriisti#➵ naesala 03#his name WILL be cranberry just gotta give andrei another little push#➵ cranberry
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“Ah, Andrei.” To say they had set off with the intention of seeking him out would be incorrect. If this killer bird sought anything, it would only be the pleasure of sinking into a soft mattress and resting their weary muscles, though it is a faraway one— one that cannot quite be achieved with their underground accommodations.
But on monastery excursions like these, they've always kept an idle eye on their fellow Abyssians when able. No need to risk something happening to any of them; some surface dwellers were quite itchy with their fingers on a blade. And their mindless wandering has eventually brought them to him. Yuri looks him up and down, head tilting. “…All right? You fought for the Black Eagles, yeah?”
A grin twitches at the corner of their lips. “A shame we didn't run into each other. I'd have liked to see how we compared myself. Suppose I'll have to settle for imagining it.”
“I have always fought on the side of the Black Eagles each time such a mock battle has occurred,” Andrei says, “There are reminders of my past there that I cannot simply turn my back on, even in this land.”
Vaguely, he wonders whether such a sentiment would be meaningful or foolish to Yuri’s ears. He had never asked the circumstances that had brought them to the Abyss, mostly accepting as an established truth their status as the leader of the ‘house’ he now finds himself in. Perhaps they’d cut all ties to their previous allegiances, or perhaps they were, like him, still bound by an obligation to some ideal.
At Yuri’s next words, though, Andrei gives a wry smile of his own. “Well, the Battle of the Eagle and Lion is a clash between the houses, is it not? A battlefield meeting between those of us who call the Abyss our dwelling would much defeat the purpose of such an endeavor.” Official or not, they too were something like a house. “Were we to be allowed to exist in the minds of those in the monastery, perhaps you might even lead us into battle.”
It is unlikely, he knows, nor does he truly wish for it to happen — his time of existence in the Abyss had easily taught him to avoid the discerning gaze of those above ground if possible — but better an ally than a rival.
#oh man i know lore + logistics makes this p much impossible (bc there's so much fewer abyss muses than other houses)#but it would be so cool if at some point in the future wolves/abyss could hijack boel as the fourth house :'D#aubins#toaboel2024
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