Splattered on the wall like a Rorschach test and running down the surface was a shade of red that Cet was desperately hoping wasn't blood. The room looked like it had been turned over, ripped sheets strewn across the floor and feathers from burst pillows littering the shared space. Cet reached out to touch the damp wall, and on pulling it away his palm was coated in a slick maroon color. "It doesn't smell metallic." Rubbing his fingers together, he found that the liquid didn't clump. In fact, there wasn't the smell of copper in the air at all. Rather, it was… cherries?

The bathroom door swung open, and Cet turned his head, a bit startled. But it was just Henry, the other mage humming cheerfully, his hands stained pink. Cet was about to ask Henry if he was about to be sworn into secrecy over murder, and if there was a body under one of their beds that he should know about. It was a bit preemptive to think that his roommate had committed murder in the time it took for him to run to the library and back, but really, given the circumstances…

"Hey there.. pal." Edging towards his bed, Cet not so casually crouched, taking a breath before flipping the covers up and peering under the bed. All clear. He stood back up, and walked over to Henry's side of the room, getting back on his knees. "You figure you'd get some finger painting done while I was gone?" He gestured towards the wall. "You could have at least used some paper." Cet took another breath to clear his nerves, and flipped the cover of Henry's bed. Peering under the bed, he was relieved to see there was nothing but a few dust bunnies, and.. rustling? He squinted, leaning closer to inspect.

From the back, he faintly heard Henry start talking. "Ooh, I wouldn't get too clos-"

Turning his head, Cet opened his mouth to snap out a "what" but was interrupted when a mass of black feathers burst towards his face, wings hitting his head and claws scraping against his arms as he tried to cover himself. "WHA- pfthbt." Spitting out out a feather that got caught in his throat, Cet scrambled backwards as a pair of crows went after him, pecking at his fingers as they batted the intruder away from their nest.

Henry raced forward, waving his arms to beat off the crows. The white haired mage managed to catch one of the birds by the feet, but the crow continued to flap its wings, crying indignantly. Henry was laughing, shushing the bird as he nudged it out of their room via window.

Cet on the other hand, was not having a good time. He'd managed to get to his feet, shaken, with a second crow hot on his tail. He dodged behind Henry, putting his roommate between himself and the charging bird. He gripped Henry's shoulder, shaking it as he half yelled at the other. "You, why are there birds under your bed? Since when? Hello!?"

"I can explain!" Henry called back to him, trying to fight off both the bird and the boy coming at him from both sides. "See, that pair you told me to get rid of awhile back. Well, they just had such cute faces you know? Can't turn down puppy dog eyes like that and all." Between words he was batting off the other crow, and finally managed to catch it in his hands.

"BIRDS DO NOT HAVE PUPPY DOG EYES." As Henry managed to catch the other bird, Cet pried open the window again, and Henry set the other bird free. It gave another angry cry before batting Cet again with its wings, the black haired mage fearing that his eyes were about to be gouged. With a final flap of its great black wings, the crow took off after its other, and the room was left in relative silence. The commotion had set the white pillow feathers flying again, and as they fell they mixed with the black feathers the crows had left behind.

Cet was feeling a little shell shocked. All the energy he'd had trying to beat off the birds suddenly vanished, and he was left staring out the window before finally turning towards Henry. The other was all too innocently holding his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. And before Cet could figure out what to say, Henry piped up.

"So you were asking about the wall." Pointing towards it, the roommates turned to admire the mess of red, now stuck with feathers of black and white. "I was trying to open a bottle of ink, see? And that dear pair of birds suddenly burst out from under the bed and well," he gestured vaguely at the shape on the wall "art."

"Grima dammit."

The next morning, Cet woke, feeling the scratches on his arms and smelling the lingering cherry scent from the ink that refused to be scrubbed from their walls. He sighed, wanting to bury his face in his pillow, but he didn't really have one. Swinging his legs out from his bed, he let his feet meet the cold ground and frowned before pulling his socks on. Henry was still snoozing, so Cet let him be. He was preoccupied as it was, and he glanced at the pile of books on his desk, wondering if he should have organized the months of notes scattered around the table and floor. Though, if he'd wanted to do a bit of brushing up, it was a bit late for that. In a few hours, he and Henry were about to be thrown into what he personally thought was a highly suspicious assignment.

With Henry essentially being bumped up a year, and he on a special tactician track, it seemed like the higher ups thought it was about time that the two get their feet wet in the field. Though, Cet wondered if being sent to spy on Ylisse was the best way to ease into conflict. But with the way that he'd heard whispers of how Plegia was trying to instigate conflict by attacking border villages, it was only a matter of time before Ylisse would strike back. He felt a lump in his heart grow heavy. He wasn't a fool, and the prospect of being thrown into a war didn't particularly appeal to him. But it was that or be killed for insubordination. And with that happy thought on his mind, Cet started shoving books into his bag.

He'd nearly finished packing when Henry finally woke with a yawn. The other mage's hair stuck up on end, and Cet raised an eyebrow and pointed to his own head. Henry squinted, rubbing his eyes before getting the hint and smoothing his hair down. He stretched before hopping out of bed, the cold floor seemingly not a bother to him as it had been for Cet. Henry twirled for good measure, planting his feet firmly on the ground with his hands on his sides. "Well, this is it!" He picked up his own bag, already packed the night before, slinging it across his chair. "A whole three years and a half of schooling before they decide to throw us out into the real world!" He wiggled three fingers in Cet's face, grinning. "It looks like they couldn't wait to start the war before we actually graduated! But it's nice of Plegia to go ahead and let us out to fight!"

Cet was sure that Henry was actually pleased that he'd be able to be part of the action. And if the other mage was going to make the best of the situation, who was he to rain on his parade. The tactician managed to snap his bag shut, and patted the leather. "Well, I guess there's nothing much for us to do put hope we make it through." He was well aware that their relatively structured life was about to give way to who knows how many years of fighting. He wasn't unfamiliar with the fact that they were going to be taking and losing lives, and for a moment wondered how he could be so jaded when he hadn't even been fully exposed to the horrors of a true battlefield. But that was Plegian schooling for them. The Ylissians were probably just as familiar with cutting others down, and Cet could feel a scowl on his face. "I guess since the last Exalt started a war with us, it was just due time until the Plegians decided that the peace had lasted long enough."

Thumping Cet's back, Henry flashed a bright smile. "That's the spirit! It'll be fun as long as we're winning, so don't let me down!"

A bemused expression crossed Cet's face, and he scoffed. Though they were about to be sent to spy and possibly make contact with Ylisse, Cet didn't feel particularly riddled with anxiety. He was almost glad that their last day had been one that ended on the note of a roommate antic. Cet stood and clapped Hnery's hand. "I don't plan on letting you die, so make sure you have my back covered too, alright?"

If Cet thought that trudging through sandy dunes through blazing sun during the day and freezing temperatures during the night was bad enough, he wasn't sure where to begin with categorizing how absolutely tedious it was to scale rocky surfaces while rain was pounding down from the heavens. The soldiers that had been assigned to their small company were of no help, seemingly displeased to have to take orders from a tactician younger than they. Bitter as it was, Cet wasn't petty enough to leave them to the dogs for their underlying insubordination. He was sure that Henry had seen the steely glint in his eye when he'd glared at the company for lagging behind in taking his orders. And he was almost positive that the other mage had case a mild hex one of the wyvern rider's mounts to get him thrown off his steed.

It had been a grueling march to make it this far. But at last, it seemed as if they had managed to make it to the edge of the Plegia-Ylisse border. Wiping his rain drenched hair out of his eyes, Ceteris tried to see further into the gloom, but seeing nothing but dark masses that were the rocks that they'd just finished scaling. The Midmire was not his favorite place in the world, and he was glad to leave it behind him, even if it meant that they'd be crossing into enemy territory. He'd studied the maps, and was sure that there was a village up ahead, supposedly uninhabited since it was so close to the border. It seemed like a grim place to be heading, a reminder of the destruction that the generation before them had wrought. Though, he'd much prefer walking into an empty village than have to storm one that was filled with living people.

He had sent a scout ahead of them to clear the area, and was expecting them to be back soon. No one seemed to be particularly chatty, with the exception of Henry. The mage grinned his way whenever Cet glanced back at him, and it was reassuring nonetheless. But as the minutes ticked by, and the village growing closer, Cet wondered when their scout would return. Running his tongue over his teeth, he wondered if he should send a second after the wyvern rider he sent before. On the verge of a decision, he signaled to stop the company.

With the silence that followed the halt, only the constant pattering of the rain filled their ears. But in the distance, a faint beating began to draw closer. Cet turned back to see if one of the wyvern riders had lagged behind, but there was no sound of wing beats behind them. Feeling heat rising in his face, Cet whipped out a tome, and the company followed suit, weapons ready. As the last sword was drawn, the figure in the distance was finally visible. A riderless wyvern struggling to make it back to them, its hide littered with arrows and slashes.

Faint whistling cut through the air and Cet quickly cast Arcwind to cover the squad from a volley of arrows. He didn't manage to get all of them, and he grimaced as he heard arrows thrum through some unfortunate soldiers. As they fell, he kissed his past self goodbye. Their blood was on his hands now.

"AMBUSH, SCATTER." Barking out to the rest of his company, Cet lead the charge to the closest cover, the crumbling reminds of the foundation of a lookout tower just on the outskirt of the village. A cavalier lead the charge for them, as he and Henry shot blindly into the rain, hoping that the enemy archers were in that general direction. As they ran for cover, Cet heard the distant roar of enemy soldiers, and tried to rack up just how many people they were about to fight. A frenzied whinny snapped him to attention, and he watched as the cavalier was thrown from his horse. They'd run into an ambush.

"Stupid, stupid." Cursing himself, Cet and company charged at the party by the fort. A glance at their armor confirmed it, they'd run into a Ylissian company. A blast of black magic surged past him, and he switch positions, ducking behind Henry as the other mage laid down cover fire for the rest of the group. Racking his brains, Cet tried to figure out how he could salvage this.

But their troops were falling too fast, he couldn't see, and the electricity in the air made it impossible for him to try to gather his wits. Another slash of an enemy's sword sent the blood of one of their soldiers splattering against the cobbled wall of the collapsing fort. The shape was so similar to the ink that was splattered against Henry and his dorm wall not so long ago. But there was no scent of cherries floating through the air. Just the metallic tinge of iron.

Too caught up in his thought, Cet didn't realize that there was a sword bearing down his face until he caught the flash of the blade catching the moonlight. But before it made contact, one of his remaining troops threw himself over the attack. Cet watched in horror as the light quickly faded from the man's eyes, and he reached out to catch him. But it was too late, the soldier gave a wet cough, drops of blood splattering against Cet's face.

Cet's ears were ringing, the sound of sword on sword mixing in with the rising roar that threatened to deafen him. He'd managed to get one order in before his small band had folded like a house of cards. The incompetence and inability to do anything infuriated him, and he tried desperately to fight back. But no sooner had he, Henry and the few soldiers left managed to sloppily mop up the Ylissian company, a fresh band of enemy soldiers number a dozen surrounded them. The remaining cavalier and foot soldier left to him made wild eye contact before turning tail, trying to run, anything but stay in the middle of a mob of soldiers who had their weapons trained on them. But unfortunately, there was no way out, their their charge was cut short, enemy troops quickly dispatching the two that tried deserting Ceteris.

He stood back to back with Henry, the only one who'd managed to make it through this far. The mage was drenched, with rain and stains red that thankfully weren't his. Or Cet prayed that they weren't. Henry had a manic grin on his face, and the energy around his hand crackled, still unspent.

Through the roaring in his ears, Cet heard as Henry spoke slowly and deliberately. "I don't like ouchies very much Cet. I have your back covered, so what's the plan?"

And as wretchedly as Cet wanted to answer him, the words died on his throat, and he could only hear himself scream into his head. "I don't know."