#fomorias

[tikkuns-blog]

                                and i will stand before a crowd of people. eyes glued to me. i will say i am here, like he did. but it will be different, because i’m not all might. i never was. i’m me, i’m deku: the great hero who ever lived!

[nephils-archive]

                                     dusty old pages / @fomorias​

             your press the book to his hands. there’s blank pages, your story yet to be written. not to be written by your hands. reading was never really a skill you had acquired. your mother, had once referred to the curse of your eyes. so that even when you looked at long enough to focus, the letters would move. 

[lakehid-blog]

@fomorias has come to call.

     you  had  won  the  war ,  but  the  cost  was  too  great .  you  had  gotten  the  revenge  that  seiros  had  wanted  ---  and  now  what ?  you  lost  too  many  of  your  own  to  rebuild .  (  there  are  only  the  five  of  you ,  now .  too  few  by  a  long  shot .  )  so  you  did  what  you  have  always  done ,  and  you  retreated .  you  isolated .  you  hid .

     you  do  not  know  how  long  you  have  been  hiding ,  but  you  assume  it  was  long  enough  for  cethleann  to  have  healed .  otherwise  cichol  wouldn't  be  here ,  wouldn't  be  looking  at  you  with  eyes  that  seem  older  than  they  should .  eyes  that  know  grief  better  than  they  should .  (  you  knew ,  at  the  end  of  the  war ,  that  he  had  been  mourning  the  loss  of  his  beloved ,  had  been  worried  over  the  injuries  of  his  daughter .  )  (  this ,  too ,  was  perhaps  part  of  the  reason  you  isolated  yourself .  you  were  able  to  banish  any  thoughts  of  a  possible  future  when  he  met  midir ,  but  you  were  unable  to  banish  your  actual  feelings .  )  (  but  that  was  okay  ---  you  saw  how  happy  he  was ,  and  that’s  all  that  mattered  to  you .  )  (  how  happy  he  was .  was .  until  the  war  took  that  from  him .  )  you  watch  him  come  closer ,  heart  aching .    ❝  why  have  you  come  here ,  cichol ?  ❞    you  must  keep  your  voice  steady ,  strong .  you  can  allow  no  wavering ,  no  weakness .  you  are  IMMOVABLE .  (  or  so  you  claim .  )

[lnhrdt]

Upon the slick cathedral floor is where Linhardt had found his focus. He sat with his legs crossed and beside him was his own small mountain of various books-- some were older and had been long since they had returned to their shelves, while others were journals of his own creation with quick scrabbles of ink that almost seemed illegible. Though before him was his intended study-- the Saints. Four colossal statues of stone depicting the Saints from times of old stood upon their pedestals since who knows how long. Despite the majority of crests being that of the Elites, something about the Saints had interested him. Perhaps it wasn't because his own crest was of that of Saint Cethleann, but their connection to the Church itself brought Linhardt's research to a standstill-- It made him doubt.

❝ How could the Goddess allow such a thing... ❞ He mused to himself, unaware that he was sitting near Seteth. ❝ Crests may reap benefits in battle, yet what kind of Goddess would allow her people to fight like animals? Why must she value the lives of some rather than others-- ❞ It was then when he caught the gaze of Seteth. He slowly closed his books as he began to organize them. ❝ I didn't know that this room was reserved... I don't mean to intrude of course, I'm just working on my studies. ❞ Though as he approached Seteth, an idea had popped into his head. He searched for a thin leather journal and some ink before looking to the elder once again.  

❝ I presume that you know the stories of the Goddess and her Saints? I... There has to be some sort of information here that can explain my troubles-- Anything to put my mind to rest. Certainly, if you were to humor me and let me know what you think, it'll be better nothing. ❞

plotted starter for @fomorias

[hisvigour]

         tired  is  the  soul  tugged  to  &  fro  by  the  labors  of  the  church  .  though  mercenary  life  was  one  to  always  keep  him  on  his  toes  ,  the  tasks  of  the  knights  of  seiros  was  something  to  not  take  lightly  .  but  he  had  gained  reprise  in  the  form  of  being  able  to  settle  in  his  office  for  longer  than  five  minutes  .

          rub of the neck  .      ❛    ugh . . .  finally  .  a  breather  .    ❜      /      @fomorias

[bladebroke-blog]

fomorias replied to your post: jeralt, looking at all these children: okay i’m...

a competitor i see

*wild west showdown music plays in the bg*

[enlighth]

@fomorias​ / i said i would do this.

       perhaps they were being a bit too rash with this line of thinking ... there’s no way it could be true, right?   is what anyone else would probably say.  but after having the literal goddess within them & her powers being transferred to them, byleth was sure this conclusion they’ve come to was a no-brainer.   the professor did also take the time to subtly ask some questions to a few others who may know a thing or two on the topic.  not much more information was given, but it was still enough to further their own theory ...

the fact that seteth and flayn were actually father & daughter only continued to be evidence of what byleth thought to be true.   just how should they approach seteth about it, though?  just asking would probably prove to be fruitless considering he, and even flayn, have done their most to keep such things a secret -- though flayn doesn’t do as good of a job.

might as well just ... wing it!  a nod to themself,  byleth finally makes way to seteth’s office ( making sure no one else is around first, of course ) and stops in the door way. 

      “ hey. cichol. ”

[mercenarystone-blog]

she knows of the idea of him, of course. ( a bureaucrat of a legendary figure who ruled with an iron fist. ) after all, one could not travel a single step on the damn continent without hearing talk of the church. the tight-laced bureaucracy of the archbishop never ceased to astound and disappoint her. ( of course- she knew damn well that were there were legends- there were those like her. but a talk for another day. another person. ) “ well met, my friend. is there something i can offer my services for? ”

 @fomorias​  💎’d