FE Supports

Having procured the necessary ingredients for his next potion, Khalid slips out of the greenhouse and onto the monastery's cobblestone paths. The bundle of flowers stuffed deep into the depths of his pockets brushes against his legs with each step.

Anemones.

According to his last visit to the library and one incredibly thick botany book, all species of this flower were poisonous. Not enough to kill, but a bite or two would give Raphael the runs.

Which makes them perfect for his concoctions. If one of the Blue Lions or Black Eagles happened to experience an upset stomach during their next mock battle, well, Khalid would shrug and warn them to watch over their food more diligently.

Picking up his pace, he hikes up the steps past the dormitories and makes his way back to his own quarters. A stray cat pauses in their licking of their paws to give him an apprehensive stare. Round yellow eyes follow him as he reaches the corner by the training grounds.

He stops.

The wooden doors have been left slightly ajar. A sliver of waning candle light catches on the curve of his boots.

It could be Felix. He loves training, especially at odd hours where no one is around to bother him. Or Leonie. He vaguely recalls the girl griping about the draw strength of heavy-weight bows.

Either way, none of it is his business. Khalid prefers to poke his head into matters that would end up benefiting him.

Despite his determination, his body ends up betraying him in the end. At the familiar whistling of an arrow slicing through the air, the dull thwack of an arrowhead striking a wooden target, he finds himself turning back.

A familiar voice mutters "Ah, I missed again…"

Khalid's lips quirk up into a smile. Nudging the door open, he steps into the training grounds.

It definitely wasn't Felix. Or Leonie. Unless one of them suddenly decided to acquire long brown hair braided into low twin tails and dusted blush pink at the ends. Lysithea could probably cast the necessary spell if she was vexed enough, Khalid muses.

Leaning against stone walls, he watches Cherry draw another arrow from their quiver. They've shedded their red cloak, leaving them in the plain white button up the monastery assigns. The fabric creases, stretching taut over their shoulders as they pull the arrow back.

Glancing at the arrows embedded on the outer rings of the target and then back at the girl, Khalid decides to offer them some sage advice.

"You should try relaxing your arm a little."

Two things happen. Three things, if Khalid is being particular about the details.

1. Cherry yelps, nearly jumping a foot into the air at the sound of Khalid's voice.
2. They let go of the arrow in their hands.
3. Flying straight, it buries itself dead-center in the middle of the target.

Bullseye.

"Yup, just like that."

Pivoting on their heel, Cherry shrieks. "Claude! Were you watching me!?"

Biting down the urge to laugh, Khalid teases "Yeah, I was watching you. Watching you make a perfectly good shot. Nice job on that one, by the way."

"You know that's not what I meant—"

Suddenly, they pause. The girl looks back at the wooden target with their lips rounded into a perpetual 'o', having cut off their own sentence. Cherry stares at the lone arrow protruding from the center of the target. Khalid sees the moment his words click in their head—their cheeks flush pink as they smile.

"I did it! Look, look, I hit it right in the middle!"

"With my help, of course." At their pout, Khalid quickly amends "...but it only happened because you've been training and working so hard! How long have you been down here anyways?"

"Oh. Good question." Tapping their bottom lip, their pout melts into a tiny frown. "Maybe an hour ago? The sun was still up when I started."

"Wow. That's a long time."

Hopping down into the sandy grounds, Khalid hovers by their side and squints at the far away targets. A lot of their arrows have strayed from their mark, collecting on the outer rings instead. He could count the amount of times they've hit the center with one hand.

"Leonie has been teaching you how to use the bow, right?"

They hum. Drawing another arrow, they nock it on the arrow rest before pulling the string back. Khalid itches with the need to correct their technique.

"She's been really nice about it!"

"Yeah, Leonie's nice. I don't think she's been teaching you the proper form though. Here, lift your shoulder higher." Gently, he re-positions their arm, matching the spine of the arrow with their eye level. "It strains your muscles less this way."

"Remember the part before you screamed, when I told you to relax? Your arrow will curve if you hold the bow or the string too tightly."

Doe eyes briefly meet his gaze. “I only screamed because you snuck up on me,” they huff. Loosening their grip, they set their sights back on the target.

“Hey, not my fault you didn’t notice me.”

Satisfied with their form, he leans back. The bow doesn’t wobble in their grasp now, held steady in the palm of their hands. Their arrow should be aligned with their sights. As long as Cherry aims correctly, Khalid feels somewhat confident that it should land within the inner rings.

He doesn’t speak. Even if he did, he imagines it would fall on deaf ears. A hush falls over the training grounds as they carefully aim. The dirt beneath his feet bleeds red and orange from the setting sun. Cherry almost seems to glow in the light—with the heat of a burning hearth, of roaring fires, of warmly lit taverns.

They exhale. It is a soft breath that Khalid wasn’t even aware they were holding, a simple puff of air as their lips part. The arrow is released from their grasp. Something cracks sharply. Blinking, Khalid finds the arrow protruding from the bullseye split straight down the middle, wooden spine splintering to make way for Cherry’s newest shot.

“I guess all you needed was my guidance, huh?” Khalid winks. He’s only half-joking. Their aim, when paired with the proper form, seemed to be better than their clumsy nature suggested. He once had the joy of witnessing them chuck a paper airplane straight into Seteth’s face. And a pouch of gold coins straight into the garbage bin.

Lowering their bow, Cherry offers Khalid a warm smile. Bright as the sun rising over the horizon, shining over Almyran fields. 

“Thanks, Claude! You’re actually pretty good at teaching. If you’re free, do you mind helping me practice again?” A nervous laugh escapes them. "Only if you want to! I get it if you're busy or have other things to do…"

Facing utmost sincerity, Khalid flounders. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he tries to steer the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere that doesn't involve showering him with genuine praise and kind smiles. “Well, I can’t have you going around shooting people in the face, can I?”

“Oh my god.” Scrubbing a hand over their face, they wail, “Can’t you forget that one? It didn’t even hit Edelgard!” Unbuckling the leather chest guard and quiver wrapped around their hip, they move to hang the archery equipment up on the wooden racks.

Khalid hands them their discarded cloak. “I don’t know, it was pretty funny. Also, I don’t think Hubert is going to be forgetting your accidental assassination attempt anytime soon.”

Draping their cape over their shoulders, Cherry wonders aloud, “Do you think if I accidentally shoot an arrow at Dimitri, it evens it out?”

"If you do it on purpose, that's not an accident, Cherry."

The wooden doors creak on their way out.