A/N- This was written for fe_contest for the theme "spirit". I hope that it's okay.
Disclaimer- I do not own Fire Emblem or anything related to it.
The day was an unseasonably warm one, with the lack of a breeze making the harshness of the sun that much more obvious. Cain reached his hand down to pat his horse's sweaty neck gently, a frown creasing his face when he touched the horse's neck and noticed how hot the gelding, a sixteen hand bay named Adrastos, was. With a soft sigh, he urged the large warhorse back towards the barn, calling an end to training for the day.
Considering how little time he spent in the field these days, he wasn't even entirely sure why he pushed himself as hard as he did, except that after all those years of training, he felt uncomfortable if he missed a practice session. Old habits are hard to break, I suppose, he thought with a small smile as they reached the barn and he dismounted, leading the horse into the barn.
Or perhaps it was simply that it was a constant in his life at a time when so few things were constant. Even when things became unstable, he always had his training to help him keep his mind straight.
"Besides," he said out loud to Adrastos, rubbing the gelding's neck affectionately, "You'd miss the exercise, wouldn't you?" The paladin smiled as the horse snorted and threw up his head, seemingly in response. "I thought as much."
"Sir Cain!" A voice came emanating from the far end of the aisle, drawing the red-haired knight's attention. He stiffened as he recognized the man as one of King Marth's personal messengers.
"Yes," he responded quickly, his manner all business now. "What do you need of me?"
"His Majesty would like to see you as soon as possible. He awaits you in the throne room," the messenger reported, with a small bow.
Cain nodded. "I'll be there in just a moment. I can't leave my horse in this state."
"Understood, sir. I'll let His Majesty know." With that, the messenger took his leave.
Cain quickly finished up cooling off Adrastos, feeling a tinge of regret that his time working with the horse had come to an end so soon.
As he made his way to the castle, his mind recalled the words spoken to him by his friend, and, as of much more recent history, his lover, Catria, before they had parted after the War of Heroes had drawn to a close.
"I doubt that things will be able to return to what they were," she'd confided in him worriedly at the time. "I only hope that we're all prepared for the changes that this war has brought about."
And indeed, she'd been absolutely correct. The spirit of change had been in the air ever since.
The war had brought about a number of things, the most important of those being the tremendous shift in power that occurred when the whole continent came to fall under one locus of control. Cain wondered idly now if Catria had suspected at the time that her princess intended to renounce her claim to the throne, although the memory of the sadness that had been present in her eyes when he had seen her next after that announcement caused him to quickly dismiss the thought.
It appeared as though very little had been left untouched by the spirit of the times. Some of the changes seemed to be for the better like the increase in trade due to the ease to pass between countries and some that were not quite so welcome such as trying to figure out how to coax the citizens of those countries to accept their new monarchs. The abominable insults thrown around on the streets aimed at his lord and lady burned his ears.
Human nature is perhaps the only thing that never seems to change, Cain thought grimly, his mouth tight.
As Cain drew to a stop in front of the large, ornate door at the entrance to the castle's throne room, he promptly collected his thoughts. He nodded to the guards at the door, who opened it for him.
Cain took a deep breath as he entered the large room, feeling out of place as he approached the throne, although this was hardly a new experience for him by this point. The king had been calling on him more and more often these days for a variety of reasons, many of which had little to do with his duties as commander of Royal Knights, particularly since Sir Jagen had taken ill. Although he tried his best to fulfill his lord's requests, Cain could not chase away the lingering doubts he had about his own abilities. His training as a knight seemed inadequate for the duties he'd been assigned as of late. Considering the circumstances of the times, doing his best might simply not be enough and the consequences for mistakes were simply too high to allow for them.
"Ah, Cain. I'm happy to see you." The king spoke first, upon seeing him enter. "Please come here for a moment."
"As you wish, sire," Cain said softly with a bow as he approached the two thrones at the back of the room, relaxing a bit under his lord's steady, welcoming gaze. The king had always been good at setting him at ease, even at a young age. "What is it that you wish of me, Your Majesty?"
"Ah, yes," Marth responded, moving towards the small table set up beside his throne and setting his hand on the stack of papers sitting there. "I need to ask a favor of you. Would you be willing to look over these reports tonight and then let me know your thoughts. I require a second pair of eyes."
Cain hesitated for a moment before finally nodding his head. "Of course, my lord. I will get right on it."
Marth smiled gratefully as he thanked him and handed over the papers.
After speaking for a few more minutes on the condition of the Royal Knights, Cain finally took his leave, nervously toying with the edge of one of the pages, and made his way back to his office where he locked himself inside to work.
Cain set the papers down on his desk gently and quickly settled down to work. More complications were all papers like these ever brought. With the spirit of the times still in the air, he doubted that this was likely to change any time soon.
But it's all been working so far, Cain reminded himself, closing his eyes. Please just let it continue to work.