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Once upon a time, in the lands of Leicester, there lived a cunning young lord who challenged the Gods. He believed not in Crests as a class signifier, nor power for one, and spoke ill of Sothis herself. Often, his subjects heard him speak ill of the Goddess:
“I care not for the Divine Mother,
Nor any of her saintly others.
No God rules me,
Or holds me chained to any tree.
Sothis exists, but claims none of my will,
Which is all mine and searches for life’s thrills.”
Such heretic words shocked all of Leicester. Count Ordelia refused trade to such a rabble rouser; Count Gloucester pitied the fool and sent extra prayers to Sothis on his behalf; Duke Goneril attempted to convince the young prince otherwise but to no avail; and finally, Margrave Edmund sent rumours around that he was simply confused.
This brave young trailblazer was named Claude; he was an heir to House Riegan, the leader of the Alliance. And his words, which were heard throughout all the land, reached Sothis in her heavens above. She pitied the boy, but could not stand as he continued to spread his disbelief in her plans for Fódlan.
In the light of the Blue Sea star, Sothis reappeared to Fódlan as her followers had hoped. But she did not show herself before them, instead presented herself in all her eminence before Claude.
“Child of fate,
The one who bestows me with his hate.
I am Sothis, the Divine Mother,
The Goddess of Fódlan, amongst others.
Your words have wracked my heavens
with a tact voice and words that leaven.
Your indiscretion makes me pity you;
And now I curse you until your heart burns blue.”
In a great swash of light, Sothis transformed Claude into a creature that Leicester was named after: a golden deer. His limbs morphed into long and limber legs, his hair turned into a coat of burnt amber, with flecks of dark brown and white. The clasp of his braid remoulded into a cuff about one of his antlers, which stretched high and tall and sparkled with gold. And as he marveled in shock at his new body, Sothis spoke to him:
“The worst section of this curse,
Is that no one may understand your heretic verses.”
Panicked, Claude tore throughout the royal palace, where his own servants and retainers tried to shoot at him with their bows and arrows. He fled into the lush meadows and forest that bordered on his family’s territory.
Claude hurried throughout the forest, running from nightfall to daybreak from travellers and hunters. His antlers, sparkling with the morning sun, attracted many bandits and rogues, making his journey only more painful as time went on.
Then, when he felt so weak that he was about to collapse, a hunter managed to shoot him in the hind leg, hindering his speed. He cried out, collapsing into the earth.
“Stop! I am heir to Riegan!
You would kill me before my reign began?!” He spoke, his words masked into the cries of a deer.
“Stop!” Cried out a voice. “You cannot hunt here,
The Margrave Edmund’s orders are austere!
No hunting by request of his daughter,
The Lady Marianne will see no slaughter!”
Claude glanced up to his saviour, some knight or another. But when he called away the hunter, he simply left Claude to be. The prince wondered if he would die there, but willed himself to a prettier place, should it be his last sights. With great strain, he hobbled to a nearby stream and collapsed by the water. He gazed upon the sights: the sloped riverbanks, the clear water and little tufts of moss and wildflowers that grew from the land.
“Perhaps this would not be such a terrible place to lie,
Or even, should Sothis get her way, die...” He spoke to himself.
But Sothis was both a trickster and a teacher. She had no intention to let Claude die that night. From her heavens above, she conjured a dream, roused the wildlife in the area, and willed the moon to shine bright upon Claude.
She sent the dream—one of pleading and revelation from her daughter, Saint Seiros—to Lady Marianne, the daughter of the Margrave of these lands. She woke from her light slumber and looked out her window, seeing the bright light of the moon shining down into the forests behind her home. Perched on the railing of her balcony was a small thrush, which chirped quickly at her.
Marianne was fiercely protected by the Margrave; she was scarcely allowed to leave the grounds, save for her white magic lessons and the off-times she had been invited out to be courted. For such treatment, Marianne was fearful of other people, especially those who came from outside Leicester. Instead, she dearly enjoyed the company of animals, specifically her equine friend, Dorte, whom she’d known since she was a child.
The young lady stared at the bright moon, believing it to be the Goddess herself returning to Fódlan—as she was a devout believer in the Divine Mother and her Saints—and dressed in a cloak and gown. The thrush continued to chirp, then pulled at the hem of her gown to the edge of the balcony. She slipped outside, reuniting with the little bird and followed the moon’s rays to where they shone brightest, down upon the banks of a little stream.
There, in wounded glory, laid a golden deer (more specifically, Claude). Surrounding him, like he was prince of the forest, were other deer, squirrels, foxes and birds. They stared at their lady curiously, then back to their wounded prince. The animals did not fear Marianne at all, many times she had healed them or stolen scraps of bread, seeds and other food to bring when winter came and they were hungry. They parted, allowing her a path to the golden deer. Marianne hesitated before swallowing back her fear and taking a step closer. Her boot snapped a twig below her foot, startling the deer.
“Hush, hush!
It is alright, I come with the thrush!
Calm yourself sweet beast,
I come not to feast.
Let me see your wounds,
Otherwise your blood will attract the foxhounds.” Marianne spoke.
Gazing at the beautiful woman, Claude hesitated before the thrush landed near him and cried out:
“Trust Lady Marianne!
She keeps us all safe in the palm of her hand!”
While the little thrush scared him, Claude calmed at the sight of Marianne. She looked tired, with dark circles about her eyes, and her pretty blue hair tangled into a braid. But such features made her gentler, kinder to the eyes, especially those of a wounded animal’s.
Claude turned his head, bracing for pain. Instead, he only felt the tingling of white magic and the release of pressure from his hind leg. When he glanced back, the arrow was gone and his limb was healed. Marianne offered a soft smile and sat back in the grass as he rose to his hooves.
“There sweet deer,
I told you not to have a fear.
I have never seen you around here before,
And my land has such rapport...”
Claude tried to speak, but his words only came out as a chirp. Marianne laughed.
"
Well thank you Mister Deer.
I live close, and you have a home here.” She assured him.
Marianne then said farewell to her animal friends and hurried back to her manor. Awestruck by her kindness, Claude lingered around the lands, pondering just who Marianne was. When he asked the thrush, he replied:
“Oh she is but our saviour!
But the poor thing does not have the Goddess’s favour...”
The bird’s words perplexed Claude who waited around until daylight. He watched as Marianne approached from the manor in the late afternoon and all the animals came from the forest to greet her. She smiled warmly upon them, greeting everyone and sharing pieces of cheese, bread and handfuls of seeds with them. Claude watched on from the forest, perplexed until he caught her eye.
The girl gave him the softest smile then, raised her hand and threw out a large piece of cheese towards him.
“Here!
For you Mister Deer!” She whispered softly.
Not realizing how hungry he had become, Claude ate the food. Yet, he was still cautious of Marianne. He watched her for the entire afternoon, as she spoke to the other animals, then prayed and laid in the autumn sun.
She is a saviour,
But without the Goddess’s favour?
How cruel: she is devout,
But the Goddess’s love she is without.
Claude thought to himself.
Claude watched as Marianne then rose from the ground and bade all her friends farewell, returning inside the manor. Claude remained close by for the entire night, watching up to her balcony where he heard her prayers. Then, with a great breeze, a piece of parchment flew out from her chamber.
A gasp filled the night air as Marianne lurched over her balcony railing. Claude came closer, noticing it as a confessional letter. She cried out nervously and Claude, struck with duty, ran after it. He took the letter between his teeth, careful not to damage it and returned to the garden where Marianne waited.
“Mister Deer, you found my note!
Oh thank the heavens you got what I wrote.” She said, taking the paper from Claude’s mouth.
“It is my duty as her to Riegan
To help all those meet their wingspan.” He said, gaining a laugh from the lady, who could not understand him.
Marianne thanked him again. Quickly, she rummaged around in her pockets, producing an apple.
“Here, for all your troubles.
I’m sure I’ve caused you double...”
Claude gratefully took the food, but was repulsed by her words. Such a sweet girl had done nothing but give to others, not make trouble. She cautiously reached out to pat his head, which he allowed and then departed for her chamber again. As she turned around, Claude caught a glimpse of an emblem on the back of her cloak—the Crest of the Beast, the symbol of House Edmund.
Many moons passed and Claude remained as a deer. Through the changing seasons, he became closer and closer with Marianne. Although she could not understand him, she was still kind and gentle as she had always been. Soon, the moon had orbited fully around Fódlan, marking a year since Claude’s form had changed. The rumours of his disappearance began to grow louder and louder, unable to ignore them now. Even Marianne herself spoke of the lost heir with a worried breath and a prayer for his safety on her lips.
On the arc of the Blue Sea Moon, Sothis returned to Claude in a dream. He stood before her throne in the Holy Tomb, where he was a man again. She spoke to him:
“Claude of Riegan, I wonder have you learnt your lesson?
has your distrust in me even lessened?
Kind Marianne has healed your wounds and become your friend,
And I fret for what would happen should you meet your end.
Yet your heart burns blue,
The colour of a lover’s hue.”
“You plan to kill me?
Sothis, I thought you were a merciful lady!”
"Foolish child, I do not.
I worry only of how Marianne will be fraught
Should her sweet ‘Mister Deer’
No longer be here.” She warns.
“Then how do I spare her feelings?
And keep my heart from reeling...”
Sothis laughed. “Tact Claude, here is my plan;
Listen carefully and follow it like the ravine of Morgaine.
M
arianne will drop a golden ball from her window,
And whoever catches it, her heart will become endowed.”
When Claude woke, he watched all around for a golden ball. It came into his view when Marianne walked cautiously around her garden with the son of Count Gloucester, Lorenz. He hesitated, watching as Lorenz offered her the golden ball, which Marianne took cautiously. It was marked with sprawling vines and crimson-tipped emblems of Gloucester’s famous roses.
A gift?
Claude thought nervously.
He must wish to win her heart, and be swift!
When Lorenz left after tea, Marianne retreated to her chamber. Claude waited breathlessly. The little thrush buzzed near his ear and spoke quickly.
“What is wrong Mister Deer?
Your eyes are full with fear!”
“Marianne is my last hope.
Otherwise I’m stuck like this and couldn’t cope.”
“Why ever not?
Tell me Mister Deer, you look fraught.” The thrush asked
“I am not a simply a golden deer;
I’m of House Riegan, of the land of the Golden Deer.
This visage isn’t true,
I’m a human whose heart burns blue.”
The thrush marvelled at Claude before proclaiming.
“Alright young prince!
I give you this, to keep Miss Marianne from further hindrance!”
The thrush then flew up to the top of Marianne’s chamber and pushed the ball through the railing. The lady cried out before lurching over the marble. With grace and speed, Claude caught the ball in the spires of his antlers, keeping it safe from shatter.
Marianne hurried out from her chamber and gasped. Her heart swelled with thanks and love for Claude.
“You saved it, Mister Deer!
Oh thank you, I hold this so dear.” She cried out, taking the ball from his antlers. And as he knelt down, Marianne gingerly kissed his forehead, setting Claude’s heart ablaze. From her heavens above, Sothis laughed and with a wave of her hand, reversed the curse.
Before Marianne’s eyes the golden deer that she had become close friends with turned into the lost Prince Claude. She marvelled for a moment, then cried out:
“You? You were a prince?
How long? Ever since—“
"You saved me that day in the grove.
When you took a blade to my heart and in it drove.” He explained.
“I love you Marianne, I fear.
Would you have a heart for a golden deer?”
Happily, Marianne agreed to a marriage. Claude returned home and announced a formal apology to the Goddess Sothis before her church—which Sothis was pleased with—and then announced his intentions to marry Marianne. Under his rule, the Alliance was a prosperous nation, with great attention given to its animals and forests. His tale of renewed piety, and Marianne’s of kindness, would become cornerstones of Leicester storytelling.