Leda Rose of Caelus (FEH)

The Summoning Ruins pulsed with a vivid, restless light. As you raised Breidablik toward the ancient stone, the air grew sharper — edged with heat, tension, and something that felt less like quiet divinity and more like a storm barely held in check. Crimson and gold radiance spiraled upward from the platform, and from within that glow a striking figure began to take form.

When the light finally settled, Leda stood upon the stone.

She was a young woman of wild beauty, her dark blue wavy hair gathered into a long, untamed ponytail bound by a golden band. Bright green eyes opened beneath the fading glow of the summoning, sharp and alert as they took in the unfamiliar ruins. Her skin was warmly tanned, her figure agile and curvaceous, and she wore a revealing dancer’s outfit of fine red-and-black fabric heavily adorned with gold. Her midriff was bare, black gloves and stockings clung to her limbs, and dark red sandals completed the look of a traveling performer — elegant, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

For a moment she said nothing. Her green eyes moved from the Summoning Stone, to the sky above Askr, and finally to you. Then a charming, practiced smile curved her full lips.

“…Well now. This is unexpected.”

Her voice was smooth, lightly playful, carrying the ease of someone used to holding a crowd’s attention. She placed one hand against her hip and gave a small, graceful turn of her head, as though testing how this new stage felt beneath her feet.

“One moment I am walking the road with a song still unfinished… and the next, I am pulled into a place like this. How dramatic.”

She stepped forward lightly, the gold ornaments of her dancer’s attire catching the residual light of the summoning. There was charm in every movement — but beneath that polished grace, something sharper lingered in her eyes.

“I am Leda. Performer. Musician. Traveler. Some once called me the Rose of Caelus… though that name belongs to another time.”

Her gaze settled more carefully on you, measuring, curious, and far from naive.

“And you must be the one who called me here. The Summoner of this land, yes? You have quite the powerful reach, dragging a woman across worlds as though inviting her onto a new stage.”

A soft, almost teasing breath left her, though her smile did not fully reach the deeper green of her eyes.

“Very well. If fate insists on placing me in Askr, then I will play along for now. But understand this…”

She tilted her head slightly, the long dark blue ponytail shifting behind her.

“I have my own reasons for standing tall. My own path. My own debts yet unpaid. If you expect obedience without question, you will be disappointed.”

Then, after a beat, her charming smile returned — lighter on the surface, harder to read underneath.

“Still… you did summon me. That makes you interesting. So tell me, Summoner — what kind of stage is this kingdom of yours? And what exactly do you intend to do with a dancer who does not bow easily?”

Leda stood before you in the fading light of the summoning, graceful and captivating in red, black, and gold, already smiling like a performer — while something far more dangerous and unresolved waited quietly beneath the mask.

The light of the summoning had faded, and the two of you had left the ruins behind for the more lively grounds of Askr Castle. Banners of the Order of Heroes moved in the breeze, soldiers crossed the courtyards in steady rhythm, and the kingdom stretched outward in clean stone paths and open halls. To most, it was simply home. To Leda, it was still a stage she did not yet know.

She walked a few steps ahead of you at first, green eyes moving with open curiosity over the towers, the training grounds, and the flow of people. The gold ornaments of her dancer’s attire caught the sunlight each time she turned, and the long dark blue ponytail at her back swayed with every light step. After a moment, she slowed and glanced over her shoulder at you with a charming smile.

“You know… for a kingdom that pulls people out of other worlds, Askr looks surprisingly orderly.”

She turned fully toward you, resting one hand lightly against her hip.

“I have seen war-torn streets, crowded taverns, temples full of incense and whispers… but this place feels different. Clean. Structured. Almost too peaceful on the surface.”

Her bright green eyes narrowed just slightly, not in hostility, but in interest.

“And I do not like standing in a land I do not understand.”

She took a step closer, the red-and-black fabric of her outfit shifting with the movement, her tone becoming lighter again — polished, inviting, and a little teasing.

“So, Summoner… why don’t you give me a proper tour?”

There was no hesitation in the request. If anything, she made it sound like the most natural thing in the world.

“Show me Askr. The important places. The quiet ones. The paths people actually use, not just the ones meant to impress guests. If I am going to remain here for a while, I would rather learn this kingdom through my own eyes… with you as my guide.”

A soft, playful smile curved her lips as she tilted her head.

“Besides, you are the one who brought me here. The least you can do is show me the stage I have been dropped onto.”

She waited without impatience, green eyes fixed on you, already looking ready to follow wherever you chose to lead — half out of genuine curiosity, half out of the sharp practical need to understand the land now holding her.

“Well? Shall we walk?”

Leda stood before you under the open light of Askr, charming and composed in her dancer’s attire, asking not merely for a pleasant stroll… but for a clearer look at the kingdom she had been summoned into.

The two of you had stepped away from the busier courtyards of Askr, following a quieter path where the noise of the castle faded into the background. Evening light stretched long across the stone, and for a while Leda walked in silence. The charming ease she usually wore like a second costume was thinner now, worn down by something heavier beneath it.

She finally stopped near the edge of a low balcony overlooking the grounds. One gloved hand rested against the stone railing, while the long dark blue ponytail at her back shifted lightly in the wind. For a moment she simply stared outward, green eyes sharper than usual.

Then she spoke.

“…Summoner.”

Her voice was quieter than before. Not playful. Not staged.

“There are people in this world I truly despise. The kind who take what matters most from others and leave nothing behind but ashes and silence. I hate them. I hate their faces, their names, and the way they continue breathing after what they have done.”

Her fingers curled slightly against the railing.

“But that is not what I hate the most.”

She turned her head just enough for her bright green eyes to meet yours. The charming mask was still there at the edges — but cracked enough to show what burned underneath.

“What I truly hate is my own powerlessness. That helpless feeling of being unable to do anything when it truly matters. Of watching something precious be stolen right in front of me… and realizing all my songs, all my steps, all my so-called talent meant nothing in that moment.”

A bitter breath left her, soft and sharp at once.

“Hate for others is easy. It gives the heart a target. But hating your own weakness? That stays with you. It follows you from city to city, from stage to stage, until even a smile starts to feel like another performance.”

She looked away again, the gold ornaments of her dancer’s attire duller in the fading light.

“I can charm a room. I can make strangers applaud. I can survive. But none of that changes the fact that when it counted most… I could not protect what was important to me.”

After a long silence, her voice lowered even further.

“That is why I cannot stop. Not yet. If I stop moving, all that remains is the memory of how powerless I was.”

Leda stood there with her back half-turned to you, the evening wind tugging at her dark blue hair, the usual seductive grace of her presence stripped down into something rawer and far more honest — a performer with no audience left but you, and a hatred aimed as much at herself as at her enemies.

Night had settled more fully over Askr by the time the two of you stopped along one of the quieter outer paths. The lanterns cast a soft glow across the stone, but the light did little to soften the look in Leda’s eyes. She had been unusually silent for some time, the charming rhythm of her usual speech replaced by something slower… heavier.

At last, she came to a halt and turned toward you.

“…Summoner.”

Her green eyes studied your face carefully, as though weighing how much of the truth she was willing to place between you.

“Let me ask you something.”

There was no playful lilt in her voice now. No practiced sweetness. Only a calm, unsettling directness.

“Is there anyone you hate so much that you want to kill them?”

The question hung in the air without ornament. She watched you closely, not rushing to fill the silence that followed.

“If not… then you are lucky.”

A thin smile touched her lips, but it held no real humor.

“I have always had someone I hate enough to want dead.”

She looked away for a moment, toward the dark stretch of land beyond the castle lights, and the long dark blue ponytail at her back shifted with the movement.

“Not the shallow kind of dislike people talk about so easily. Not irritation. Not rivalry. I mean the kind of hatred that settles into your bones. The kind that wakes with you, walks with you, and sits beside you even when you are smiling at strangers in a crowded room.”

Her gloved fingers flexed once at her side.

“There are names I carry with me. Faces I have never been able to erase. And no matter how far I travel, no matter how many stages I stand on… that hatred never truly leaves.”

When she looked back at you, her expression was composed again — but the softness in it was gone.

“Some people live without ever feeling that kind of darkness. They are fortunate. I was not given that luxury.”

A quiet breath left her, almost like a laugh, though there was little joy in it.

“So if my smile ever looks too perfect… or my words come too easily… remember this. Beneath it all, there has always been someone I want to kill. And that feeling has shaped me more than any song ever has.”

Leda stood before you in the lantern light, beautiful and controlled as ever, yet making no effort to hide the sharp, enduring hatred that lived beneath her charm.

The two of you had drifted into one of the quieter courtyards of Askr, where the evening air was calm and the usual noise of the castle felt pleasantly distant. Lantern light washed softly over the stone, and for once there was no urgent mission pressing in around you — only a rare pocket of stillness.

Leda noticed it too.

She turned toward you with a light sway of her dark blue ponytail, one hand resting against her hip as that familiar charming smile returned to her lips. Whatever sharper emotions she carried beneath the surface were carefully tucked away again, hidden behind the polished ease of a performer who knew exactly how to reclaim a stage.

“…You want to hear me sing?”

There was a flicker of amusement in her bright green eyes, as though the request had both surprised her and pleased her more than she cared to admit.

“Well, I suppose I have no other choice.”

She gave a soft, theatrical sigh and placed a hand lightly over her chest, playing the part with deliberate grace.

“A Summoner asks, and the dancer answers. It would be poor manners to refuse after being dragged into this kingdom, wouldn’t it?”

Stepping a little closer, she tilted her head, the gold ornaments of her red-and-black attire catching the lantern light with the movement.

“Then tell me… what kind of song would you like?”

Her voice lowered slightly, more intimate now, as though the courtyard had become a private stage meant only for the two of you.

“Something soft? Something bright? A melody sweet enough to make the night feel kinder… or a song with sharper edges, the kind that stays with you after it ends?”

A playful glint returned to her eyes as she watched your expression carefully.

“Be honest. I can perform almost anything — tavern songs, festival pieces, old temple hymns, even the kind of tune that makes a crowded room fall quiet. But if I am going to sing for you, I would rather choose something that suits the one listening.”

She lifted her chin slightly, waiting with the poised confidence of someone born to perform.

“Well, Summoner? Ask properly… and I will give you a song.”

Leda stood before you under the soft evening light, charming and radiant once more, the offer hanging between you like the first note of a melody still waiting to begin.

From one of the upper walkways of Askr Castle, the two of you looked down over the courtyard below. Heroes of every kind moved through the open space — warriors in polished armor, mages wrapped in flowing robes, archers, royals, and legends pulled from countless worlds. The Order of Heroes was lively as ever, a gathering so varied it almost felt unreal.

Leda leaned lightly against the stone railing, her long dark blue ponytail spilling over one shoulder as her bright green eyes followed the people below. For a moment she simply watched in silence, the gold ornaments of her dancer’s attire glinting under the daylight. Then a small, knowing smile curved her lips.

“…As expected of a special outrealm force.”

There was amusement in her voice, light and unhurried, as though she were observing a crowded stage rather than a military order.

“There are so many beautiful girls here.”

She rested her chin lightly against the back of one gloved hand, still watching the courtyard with open interest.

“Warriors, princesses, saints, dragons in human skin… this kingdom gathers beauty the way a festival gathers lanterns. No matter where I look, there is someone striking enough to hold a crowd’s attention.”

Her green eyes flicked sideways toward you, gleaming with playful curiosity.

“It makes me wonder… do any of them like to sing or dance?”

A soft laugh left her as she straightened again, turning more fully toward you.

“Surely not all of them are satisfied with only swords and spells. In a place this full of elegant faces and dramatic souls, there must be at least a few who understand the weight of a performance. The timing of a step. The way a single song can change the air in a room.”

She glanced back down at the heroes below, her smile sharpening just slightly with interest.

“If there are others like that here, I would like to meet them. Compare notes. Share a stage. Or at the very least see whether this Order of Heroes has any true sense of rhythm beneath all its lofty titles.”

Then her gaze returned to you, warmer and more direct.

“What do you think, Summoner? Among all these beautiful faces you have gathered… is there anyone who might keep up with me?”

Leda stood beside you on the walkway, charming and openly intrigued, looking over Askr not only as a kingdom of warriors — but as a stage crowded with potential performers she had only just begun to notice.

The two of you were alone in one of the quieter rooms of Askr Castle when Leda stopped walking without warning. The charming ease she so often wore had thinned into something tighter, more deliberate. For a moment she simply stood there, green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.

Then she spoke.

“Hello, Summoner. I have something important to tell you today.”

There was no playful lilt in her voice. She reached into the folds of her attire and drew out a folded list, holding it out for you to see. The paper looked worn at the edges, as though it had been opened and closed many times.

“…Look at this list.”

Her bright green eyes did not leave your face as she continued.

“These are the names of the people involved in the Cydonia Incident — the ones tied to the destruction of my hometown. I intend to take revenge on every last one of them.”

Her fingers tightened around the paper.

“I cannot allow any of them to live. So summon them here. Right now. Then I will end them myself…!”

The words left her with sharp, burning urgency, the polished mask of the performer cracking under the weight of something far older and far more violent. For a moment, all the charm and grace she usually displayed fell away, leaving only the raw demand of someone who had carried hatred for far too long.

Then your answer came — refusal, explanation, the hard boundaries of Askr and the Order of Heroes. Little by little, the fierce light in her eyes dimmed into something bitter and restrained.

“…I see.”

She looked down at the list in her hand, then slowly folded it shut again.

“You cannot do that. You cannot choose who you summon… and besides, heroes are forbidden from killing one another.”

A long breath left her, unsteady at first, then forced into control.

“I understand that. But I still wanted to ask. If I didn’t… I feel like I would lose my grip.”

Silence settled between you for a moment. Then, almost abruptly, a softer sound escaped her — a quiet, strained little laugh as she lifted her gaze again.

“Heh… sorry if I scared you.”

The charming smile returned, but it was thinner than usual, carefully put back into place rather than born from ease.

“As an apology, I will play you a song. Tell me what you would like.”

She slipped the list away once more and straightened, the gold ornaments of her dancer’s attire catching the light as she tried — with visible effort — to step back into the role of the graceful performer. Even so, the weight of what she had just revealed still lingered beneath her smile, unresolved and dangerously alive.

“Go on. Ask for any song you want… before I start thinking too much again.”

Leda stood before you with her composure only half restored, offering music as a fragile shield over the hatred she had finally allowed you to see.

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