It was a miracle Arthur's parents had managed to ship him off in the first place, the promise of a prodigious academy that might fit in with Arthur's newfound love of tactical magecraft enough to make him budge from his usual isolation in his father's libraries.
Arthur was a fair bit older than most of his fellow students, which saved him the pain of dealing with the schoolyard bullies that had plagued his youth. He still mostly kept to himself, a quiet and sharp student with a knack for healing and an Eorzean sort of twist to his magic, but he formed a few solid friendships with his classmates, a certain prince among them.
And then all hell broke loose, and Arthur was whisked away back to Eorzea as swiftly as his family could manage. The war that raged in Fódlan was a distant thing, with news barely reaching his homeland, but over those long, long years, he couldn't help but wonder what became of his former classmates. Life took Arthur on his own adventures in that time, changing him from a quiet recluse to a... marginally less quiet adventurer.
So when news of the war's end finally reached Eorzean shores, it took no time for Arthur to decide to revisit the land of his schooling. Things being what they were at home, he needed to get away for a while anyway.
And that would have been all well and good if not for the presence of a great bloody beast that wanted him for dinner. By now, he was used to the wilder parts of Eorzea and the dangers they could bring, but Arthur knew better than to take on anything of that size by himself. With no other recourse, he turned tail and ran. The thunder of approaching horses is the sweetest sound he's ever heard, surpassed only by the voice telling him to take cover.
Dutifully, he scrambles behind the mounted soldiers, lifting the spellbook from its place on his belt. He may not be fighting on the front lines in this battle, but he means to help if he can. ]
no subject
It was a miracle Arthur's parents had managed to ship him off in the first place, the promise of a prodigious academy that might fit in with Arthur's newfound love of tactical magecraft enough to make him budge from his usual isolation in his father's libraries.
Arthur was a fair bit older than most of his fellow students, which saved him the pain of dealing with the schoolyard bullies that had plagued his youth. He still mostly kept to himself, a quiet and sharp student with a knack for healing and an Eorzean sort of twist to his magic, but he formed a few solid friendships with his classmates, a certain prince among them.
And then all hell broke loose, and Arthur was whisked away back to Eorzea as swiftly as his family could manage. The war that raged in Fódlan was a distant thing, with news barely reaching his homeland, but over those long, long years, he couldn't help but wonder what became of his former classmates. Life took Arthur on his own adventures in that time, changing him from a quiet recluse to a... marginally less quiet adventurer.
So when news of the war's end finally reached Eorzean shores, it took no time for Arthur to decide to revisit the land of his schooling. Things being what they were at home, he needed to get away for a while anyway.
And that would have been all well and good if not for the presence of a great bloody beast that wanted him for dinner. By now, he was used to the wilder parts of Eorzea and the dangers they could bring, but Arthur knew better than to take on anything of that size by himself. With no other recourse, he turned tail and ran. The thunder of approaching horses is the sweetest sound he's ever heard, surpassed only by the voice telling him to take cover.
Dutifully, he scrambles behind the mounted soldiers, lifting the spellbook from its place on his belt. He may not be fighting on the front lines in this battle, but he means to help if he can. ]