Disclaimer: I don't own FE, the "Star Light, Star Bright" rhyme, "Happy Birthday", or anything else.
Most of the army was already back at Mainel Cathedral, resting from the battle at Grann Desert. Mist had to sit out from that one, since her steed, like all the horses, had terrible footing in the slippery sand, though the Valkyrie went with them to heal people after the fight. Rolf was sent in as well, but he hardly did any fighting. Ike and Oscar didn't want him to fight without Oscar there, but they also needed an archer for emergencies. Shinon was still injured from last battle, when a feral tiger came from the fog and mauled his shoulder. Astrid had a steed, so she couldn't go either. Thus, off Rolf went, with one hand clutching his bow and his other a Goddess Icon. He'd shuffled through the sand, looking for treasure. He didn't disappoint. He'd staggered back dragging a physic stave and a bulky silver blade.
Now, most of the army was resting or doing some other activity or errand. Like Mist. She was heading to Rolf's room to go fetch him. Ever since they started joining the others in battle, Rolf had become...different. Almost like he enjoyed the fighting. And when she'd mentioned once that they should stop and go back to the way it was before, he became very upset. He claimed to already be a man, that his days of being a child had long ended, and then pledged to protect her and the others. Ever since, there had been a rift between the two, though she tried to act like she didn't notice it.
It was a bit of a long walk, since the men's quarters were on the other half of the cathedral. When she finally made it, she loudly rapped on the door.
"Come in," Rolf called.
Mist entered the small room. Rolf was, as of the moment, sitting in the bed, holding one of his boots upside down and beating on the sole of it. With each pound came a clod of sand that had piled up into a small heap on the floor. When she came in, he looked up and set the boot on the floor, next to the other one.
"Oh, hey Mist." Rolf beamed.
"Hi Rolf! Come one, let's go!" Mist exclaimed and lightly tugged on Rolf's arm.
"Wh-where are we going?" Rolf asked.
"On our way back from the desert, I saw this amazing well! It was hidden among many trees, so I can't tell if its abandoned. It looked kind of ancient, like it came from some ruins. But there was something special about it." Then Mist lowered her voice. "I think it's a wishing well!"
"An abandoned well in the city?"
"Yes, this was in the city. Kind of near the outskirts, but definitely in the capital. Come on, let's go now! Oh, and bring a piece of gold." Mist added as she exited the room.
Rolf hurriedly tapped on the soles of his boots to rid them of any more sand, then put them on. Luckily, he changed his clothes before Mist had come. At this, he blushed, though he didn't even know why. The sandy clothes were now piled in a heap under the bed. From them, he fished out a gold piece from a pocket and went to join Mist outside the room.
"Which exit should we use? The main one, or the back one?" Mist whispered.
"Oscar went through the back door to get to the training grounds."
"Okay, then let's go to the front one. I'd rather do this without a lot of company."
"Aren't we going to tell our brothers?" Rolf hissed.
Mist thought about it. "Well, they're all busy right now. Maybe we should tell the guards that we're going somewhere and will be back soon."
Rolf frowned at her. "Mist. Don't you remember what happened last time?"
She stared back. "We were defenseless then. And that was so long ago! I don't think anyone in the city is going to attack two kids! If you're so worried, bring your bow. I'll even bring my sword, if it makes you feel better."
Rolf hesitated for only a moment. "I think I will, then. But you don't have to get your sword. I once promised to protect you, and I meant it." Rolf smiled, and just like that the tension was gone. They walked together back to his room to retrieve his bow. As he shouldered the quiver, Mist offered to take it for him.
"I need to get stronger. And besides, if you're going to fight for me, the least I can do is carry this for you," she explained.
Rolf shook his head. "Mist, if we're in a fight, I can't defend you while grabbing arrows from your back. I'm just not used to it, and it would make you a bigger target."
Mist was about to protest, but she figured that it would be futile. She didn't tell him the real reason why she wanted to carry it.
It wasn't so much as her wanting to do it, rather, she didn't want Rolf to do it. Seeing him with his weapons at all times, seeing him so battle-hardened, so grown-up, so different from that boy who gathered flowers with her and played pretend with her... it hurt. A lot. He was a man now, with all traces of that boy gone. In fact, that proclamation of Rolf defending her really surprised her. From me, consoling Rolf in that shed, to him, vowing to protect me, wow, who'd have thought...?
Rolf's next question snapped her from her thoughts. "Are you going to ride your horse?"
"Umm, no, it's a lot of trouble. And we might attract too much attention."
"What do we tell the guards?"
"That we want to explore the city a little bit and that we won't take long."
Quietly so they wouldn't disturb Boyd, who was resting next door, the two scurried down the corridor and made the long trip to the main doors.
With only minimal questioning and a promise to return before dusk, they were allowed passage to the streets of Sienne.
"Rolf, do you remember the way we came in from?" Mist asked.
"Easy," Rolf responded. "Over there." Then he laughed. "Wow, I didn't think we would track in sand all the way here!"
Mist looked over and saw what Rolf was talking about. The road there was discolored by the trails and clumps of sand scattered about. The strong wind blew some into the air.
"This is great!" Mist exclaimed, grinning broadly. "We'll just follow this path until we get there. It'll save us time and we won't get lost." She jogged off, waving at Rolf to follow.
"Like bread crumbs," Rolf muttered to himself, and ran after her.
They were walking now, slowing down to admire the beauty of these woods. As they got off the road and approached the trees, Rolf looked around and asked, "So it's around here?"
"Yeah. Over...there! See?" Mist pointed westward.
Rolf turned, and in the shade of the trees, he indeed saw a grey stone well, off in the distance. The shadows of trees were speckled with small spots of sunlight peeking through that danced across the well. It was very quiet and serene. It was like being immersed in a fairy tale.
They reverently walked over to it. Upon closer inspection, they could see that it was round and made of stone bricks. An old wooden bucket was suspended on a thin twine high above the deep water.
"Mist, do you think we should get out of here? What if someone does own this place? We could be in a lot of trouble!" Rolf hissed.
Mist would never admit it, but seeing Rolf flustered like this gave her a small sense of satisfaction. This was possibly the only trait left of the "old Rolf": being worried and afraid of exploring sometimes.
"It's okay Rolf! We'll be quick, I promise. Would you like to go first?" Mist offered.
"You can go first." To be honest, Rolf forgot how the wishing-well ritual worked.
Mist held up the coin. "I'm not sure if this is how it's supposed to be done, but here's how I do it." She closed her hand with the coin in her palm. She closed her eyes, and thought hard.
What should I wish for? The selfless thing would be for me to wish for the good of our army. But... Personally, I want... Mist blushed ever so slightly. I want for Rolf and I to be friends again. I know there's been a gap between us lately. And I don't want that anymore.
Mist opened her eyes, and her hand. Wordlessly, she flipped the coin into the well.
The water was deeper than she'd thought. Still, they were able to hear a faint splash emanate from the well.
"Which side is it on? Can you tell?" Mist bent over the wall of the well, trying to peer through the dark water.
Rolf did the same. "Mmm...No, it's too deep. Does the side it lands on matter?"
"Yeah," Mist said, still focused on the shimmering gold piece. "If it lands on the side with the '1' on it, its supposed to come true. But if it lands on the back, where it's blank, the-AAHHHH!"
"Mist!" Rolf threw down his weapons. He dove over to her just in time, and put his hands on her back. He lifted her out before she could fall down into the well.
"Th-thanks." Mist shivered.
"Are you okay?" Rolf asked.
"Yes. How silly of me... I didn't think I'd leaned in that far. Thanks, Rolf." Mist smiled.
"No problem."
Mist suddenly looked a little worried. "If you're right, and somebody does own this place, they probably heard me. You should make your wish now."
"Okay then." Rolf put down his bow and tried to replicate what Mist had done. He closed his eyes and his fingers wrapped around the coin in his hand.
I...I had so much time to decide on my wish. And I still don't know what it is! I guess the best thing to wish for is for me to be able to protect all my friends. But... I think what I really want is for Mist and I to best friends, like we were, before. Or, maybe something even more than friends.
Rolf opened his eyes, and flipped the coin. Oh, and I want to get back safely. Inwardly, he winced. I probably wished for too much!
The coin sank under the water with more of a plink! sound. He couldn't tell if it was heads or tails, but he didn't dare look.
The two were quiet for a few moments. "What did you wish for?" Rolf finally asked Mist.
"You're not supposed to tell anyone your wish."
Rolf blushed. He didn't know that. "Oh, sorry."
Mist looked around and grinned sheepishly. "Oh, it's okay. We can share our wishes to each other and keep it secret. What did you wish for?"
Rolf was absolutely mortified. There's no way I'm was going to announce that wish to her out loud! I don't want to lie, though. But it's better than telling her. So he stalled. "Um, you want to know what I wished for?"
Mist nodded eagerly.
"I wished for me to be able to protect everyone when we fight, and for us to have future victories!"
Mist smiled, but looked away. "Yeah, I thought you'd wish for that."
Rolf was very ashamed for lying to her. He fidgeted. "So, what did you wish for?" He asked, directing attention away from him.
Mist tensed. I don't want to lie to Rolf! That would just damage our friendship even more. But, if Rolf heard my wish... I'll just tell him something he'd probably expect of me. Mist was embarrassed now, because Rolf spent his wish on something actually important while she only focused on herself.
She sighed very quietly. "I wished for us to be blessed and for us to help Crimea win the war."
Rolf smiled. "I knew you'd wish for that, also. It sounds a little like a prayer, though."
Mist feebly smiled. Then her head suddenly snapped up. "Oh, no! We were supposed to be back already!"
Rolf started panicking also. "What? How long were we gone for?" Finding the place did take them a long, time, but he didn't think it was that long, especially since they had the sandy road to guide them.
Mist started pulling his arm. "We'll just follow the road again. But we have to fast!"
The sun was setting. The two stumbled through the woods, looking for the road.
"What if... What if we're going the wrong direction?" Rolf sputtered.
"It's okay. Just keep looking!" Mist cried.
"I also wished for us to be able to get back safely," Rolf blurted without meaning to. He flushed.
Mist's face lightened. "Look, a path!" She dashed over to it.
"But is it the same one we used?" Rolf muttered.
Her face fell. "I...can't tell. It's too dark to see if there's sand on here."
Rolf sighed. "Don't count on it. The wind may have blown it away, also."
Mist looked like she was near tears. "Let's just stop. Our brothers will come rescue us."
Rolf stiffened in surprise, then wrapped his arms around Mist. "You know, that's exactly what you told me when we were kidnapped by those bandits. Remember?"
Very faintly, she smiled. "Yes, I remember. Back before we fought. In battles, I mean." And when we were still best friends.
They sat on the grass in defeat. Suddenly, Rolf admitted, "Mist, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't wish about protecting anyone. I-I, um..." All of a sudden it was impossible to speak.
"What was your wish?" Mist asked quietly.
"That... We could be best friends like before. Or-" Rolf cleared his throat. Looking down, he murmured, "Or maybe more."
By the time Mist processed that, her face became as red as his.
"I know I'm being very pushy, and I'm sorry. But that's how I truly feel about you," Rolf now looked straight into her eyes as he confessed this to her.
She started tearing up. "I'm sorry. I also lied to you. I wished for us to be friends again, like you did. And...I think I also feel the same for you."
They hadn't noticed, but their faces were only inches away. Almost instinctively, they leaned in and pressed their lips together.
The kiss wasn't terribly long. It felt a little new and clumsy, but it was very sweet and genuine.
Their lips broke away. Both smiled and were content, lying in the lush grass for an unmeasurable amount of time.
Until Rolf jumped up. "Oh, Mist, I left my bow and arrows at the well!" He turned around and abruptly froze. "Oh!...um..."
Ike stood in front of him, one hand gripping the reins of Mist's colt. His expression was enough to show that he was not pleased. Behind him was Boyd and Oscar, both on lance knight's steed. Titania came as well. Even Sigrun came, riding her Pegasus.
"Brother! You came!" Mist cried, delighted.
"We're really sorry... We got lost," Rolf added.
"What matters is that you're safe. But you must never, ever be so irresponsible and reckless again like you were today. Is that right, Ike?" Titania said.
"Yes," Ike agreed. "For the rest of our time in Sienne, you're not allowed to wander out anymore without one of us. Is that clear?"
The pair nodded.
"Okay. Ike and Mist can ride together and Rolf will ride with me," Titania suggested.
"Wait, I left my bow and arrows over at a well," Rolf said.
"I have it." Oscar held it up for them to see. "It was actually a clue that helped us find you." He handed it to his little brother. Then the children mounted the steeds.
Everyone headed back, with Sigrun leading the way in the sky. As the horses cantered away, Rolf glanced back. The last rays of the setting sun rested on the fairy tale woods where his dreams came true.
Like everyone, Soren was bored out of his mind. Battle reports took him mere minutes to write at most, and he had long since finished studying and mastering his spells. Despite having so much work to do, he was not terribly tired. There was simply nothing to do.
The Mage never did love wandering about. It just wasted precious time and energy that could be used accomplishing something important. But Soren already completed his responsibilities, so this one time, he decided to take a stroll through the extravagant cathedral.
It was how he discovered the library. It covered the entire left side of the cathedral. Fading afternoon sunbeams streamed through the many large glass windows, lighting the endless rows of bookcases. Volumes, maps, and other books (no doubt the originals) of various shapes and sizes crammed the shelves. It was almost embarrassing to Soren that he hadn't come across this place earlier. This was surely the grandest library on Tellius.
He strode in noiselessly, not wanting to disturb the silence pervading the library. Not many people were about. Soldiers guarded the library, tramping through aisles of countless books or standing around the windows and doors. Soren could barely hide his disgust. Here were soldiers, who probably couldn't even read, guarding works of priceless literature and knowledge. If, by some impossible chance, the cathedral was under siege, or even if only a thief came, these soldiers would be humanity's last hope of preserving these irreplaceable books.
Passing by the books of literature, Soren made his way to the thick history and reference books. He almost succumbed to a childish urge to run his fingers through the rows and rows of books, but he stopped himself at the last moment.
Unfortunately, he didn't get far. Someone was walking after him; he could tell by the increasingly loud footsteps behind him. He whirled around and saw Ike, with a worried expression on his face. If the mage hadn't known he was looking for Soren, he would be amazed of Ike, of all people, in a library, much less in the research section. He stopped and waited for the commander.
Ike whispered urgently, "Mist and Rolf are missing! Oscar, Boyd, Titania, and myself are holding a meeting and we need you to come too." Then he turned back to the nearest exit, with Soren catching up beside him. The mage sighed inwardly. It seemed that his trek through the library would have to wait until another time.
Everyone was assembled near the front of the main doors. Oscar and Titania were strapping on their armor. Everyone watched Soren and Ike arrive, hoping that they had any whereabouts on the lost children. Soren was surprised that the others possessed such bad common sense that they didn't guess what Soren deduced immediately. Or perhaps they did, and they were waiting for their brilliant, surly tactician to confirm it.
"I would say that Mist and Rolf most likely took a walk in the city, wandered away into the outskirts, and got lost," Soren stated.
Oscar was appalled. "Why would Rolf and Mist leave without telling one of us?"
So they hadn't come to that conclusion. That was truly pathetic. There really was no other word for it.
Ike frowned. "That doesn't matter now. We can ask them when we find them. But we have to get them back, now."
Boyd cracked a grin. "Let's go rescue their backsides. Again."
"Where could they be?" Titania murmured, more to herself than to anyone.
Soren answered anyway. "It appears they haven't informed you of their excursion, meaning that they didn't want you to know and were planning to return soon so you wouldn't notice. They aren't in the main part of the city, where they could happen across one of us. Instead, they must have gone off to a isolated place where they felt safe and alone together. Such as a small park."
"Alright. Oscar, Boyd, Titania, and myself will lead the search team. Boyd, ride with Oscar. I'll ride Mist's colt. Bring your weapons," Ike commanded. "Soren, I want you to stay here. Introduce yourself as our strategist to our new recruits: Tormod, Muarim, and Stefan. Is that all right with you?"
"I abide you decisions, as always," Soren responded. "Also, if the empress is willing, bring a Pegasus knight to accompany you. It will greatly speed up your search."
"Understood. Greil Mercenaries, move out!"
Now, watching them go, Soren found that he had lost quite a bit of respect for Rolf and Mist. Not that he respected them much in the first place. Didn't they know better than to traipse through the capital by themselves without even telling anyone? All for some naive crush? It wasn't hard to come to this conclusion, given that Mist and Rolf had left trying to get some privacy.
He turned and headed back to his assigned room. On some pieces of parchment, he composed a simple, concise contract and wrote down other information for each newcomer. Then, he left his room to go find them.
Fortunately, right in the hallway, there were two new faces. One was a short beorc boy (about Soren's height) with fiery hair and an orange cape to match. Soren could tell he was a mage from the fire tome he carried. You senseless boy, don't hold the spine of the tome like that or it will fall apart, Soren thought. And then, you'll drain our funds on a new one to replace a tome that didn't need to tear. This boy was talking and laughing loudly with his companion. Based on his happy-go-lucky attitude, Soren already wanted nothing to do with him.
His companion was, to Soren's utter vexation, a beast Laguz. In fact, the very one that they'd fought in the battle of the sands. He remembered writing on the battle report how it had nearly killed Marcia, causing Mist to have to use up the last of a valuable mend staff to heal her. Yes, he couldn't deny that they were fortunate to have someone so strong in their army. He just wished he didn't have to work with them. He'd long stopped wondering why the subhumans had such an aversion to him. He just avoided them.
Soren bristled, then walked up to them. Without greetings or pleasantries, he shoved the papers and a quill at them. "I understand that you wish to join our army. Here is the contract you will need to sign to be enlisted. On the other sheet of paper is information about wages and such. If you need to address me, I am Soren, and I serve as the strategist of the army."
"Cool!" The boy took the offered quill and papers, used his tome as a writing surface (aggravating Soren further), and signed the contract before handing the quill to the tiger. "Hey, you're a Mage, aren't you? It might not look like it, but I'm just about the most dangerous Mage around."
That comment alone made Soren want to blast him away with a good Elwind, but he decided that dumping off the kid's tomes to the convoy would send the same message across, not to mention save him one spell. But that statement was nothing compared the following one: "Let's be Mage pals!"
"Let's not," Soren snapped, plucking the contract from the boy. He glanced down to see that he'd scribbled in a name in illegible handwriting that looked vaguely like "Tormod". "And I take it that the subhuman can read and write?"
Tormod looked hurt and angry. That remark destroyed any hope of them being "Mage pals". But before he could yell at Soren, the tiger simply gave him the contract and the quill and said to Tormod, "It is fine. I am used to this, little one. You must learn to keep your temper."
But Muarim, (who'd signed his paper in surprising neat cursive) did look slightly saddened. And confused. The subhuman seemed to stiffen all of a sudden. It reminded Soren all too much of what the subhumans in Gallia did to him, so he took that as his cue to leave. With a curt goodbye, he turned his back on the carefree boy and the subhuman to find this Stefan character and retreat back to the blissful paradise called the Begnion royal library.
It was expected for everyone to be in bed by eleven o'clock, but Sothe exited his room and went outside anyway. Being a practiced thief from the streets of Nevassa made it easy for him to silently sneak down the winding corridors, but it also didn't prepare him for the massive cathedral he was in. It was so big that every single person in the army had their own room, and even then there were plenty of rooms to spare.
He stumbled around, lost, until finally, in exasperation, he went to an abandoned room on the first floor and vaulted out of a window-well, it was more of a square hole in the wall. He grunted softly as he landed hard on his feet on the hard-packed dirt. Then, he looked around.
No one was here. It seemed that Sothe was somewhere on the right side of the building. He was too open there, so he sought cover in the back. There, he saw the vast training field. Shockingly, no one was guarding the back entrance. Hopefully, they weren't changing shifts, or the next guards on duty would see Sothe crossing the field and lying in the grass, staring at the sky.
The moon sat in the sky among the stars. They were all clearly in view, out of reach from the city skyline. The ones he was looking for were visible, proudly twinkling high in the sky.
The constellation he was looking for happened to be present at this time of year. The silvery stars made a chain that vaguely resembled long flowing hair. Micaiah's hair. He smiled, thinking about a day from years past.
A five-year old Sothe sat in an abandoned street alley, but he wasn't alone. His best and only friend Micaiah and her bird Yune huddled together, trying to keep out the cold night air.
"Micaiah, why does fall have to be so cold?" Sothe moaned, unable to keep from shivering as a gust of wind blew by.
The teen did her best to wrap her tattered scarf around him. She sighed in her head, thinking how Sothe should be happy, being a child. Not having to grow up so fast here in an alley. At least he was cheerful. She didn't think it would be a permanent character trait. . "It's just how the seasons are, Sothe. Besides, it won't be like this forever. After the harshest winter, spring will ever follow."
"But it's fall," Sothe murmured.
Micaiah laughed gently. "It's an expression, meaning that after every tragedy or obstacle, something good always follows. Something even better than the last. It doesn't stay bad forever."
Suddenly, she looked up at the heavens. "I've come to think of these stars as points of light and hope."
She stopped talking as she noticed Yune flying up. The bird kept flying in a circle around a certain group of stars.
"Micaiah, look!" The cold forgotten, Sothe tugged on Micaiah's arm and showed her what he and Yune noticed.
It was a constellation that was directly above them, out of reach from the tall city spires. It looked an awful lot like Micaiah's face. The silvery stars even outlined her hair.
"Micaiah, don't you think it looks like you?" He pointed out.
"Yes. It does," Micaiah stared at the phenomenon in surprise. Then she looked back at Sothe. "Did you know I used to wish on a star all the time?"
Now this got Sothe's attention. He sat up. "Wish...on a star? How did you do it?" Sothe asked eagerly.
"What I do is at night, at the first star I spot, I say this rhyme. It goes:
Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.
Then, you tell it your wish and go to sleep." Micaiah finished.
"Is that all? Do your wishes really come true?"
"Well, I've always had Yune in my life, but I've always wanted a human friend. Soon after I made my wishes I met you, didn't I?" Then, Micaiah leaned closer to Sothe. "That's not all," she added. "If you see a shooting star, you can also wish on it. They are rare, so if you make your wish in time, they are supposed to have a better chance at granting them. And if you had made a wish on a star, then you would have two wishes."
"I want to wish on a star now!" He looked fixedly on a star in Micaiah's constellation. Micaiah hugged him, and together, with the teen leading, they chanted the rhyme.
"Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight!"
"I wish that... Micaiah was my sister!" Sothe called to it.
Micaiah smiled, but otherwise looked very uneasy.
"What is it, Micaiah? You don't want to be brothers and sisters?" Sothe looked ready to cry.
"No, it's not that," Micaiah said quickly. For a moment, she seemed to glance at her right hand. Sothe followed her gaze, but the end of her scarf covered the hand. He dismissed it.
"Micaiah, I don't feel anything different. Do you think my wish didn't come true?" Sothe asked, slightly agitated.
Before she could answer, something in the sky distracted him. "What's that?" Sothe raised his finger to the starry sky again.
Micaiah managed to catch a very quick but late glimpse of it. "That was a shooting star! Make a wish!"
"Uh, um," Sothe stuttered, unable to think. Then in a bold voice he proclaimed, "I wish that Micaiah and I would be brothers and sisters...forever."
"Oh, Sothe," Micaiah told him. "I'll always be your sister. For as long as you need me. And you'll always be my brother. Even if we're not blood related, there is no one that can tell us that we aren't brothers and sisters."
"Forever!" Sothe added.
"Yes, forever. We'll never be alone again."
As the memory played in his head, it left him with an empty feeling. Micaiah wasn't with him anymore. She broke her promise. He was completely alone.
He looked down at his drawn knife. Starlight reflected off the polished iron. No shooting stars tonight. Actually, he hadn't seen one since that day he made his first wish on a star. He angled the knife so that he could see the constellation of Micaiah. The face was a little lopsided, but the hair was exactly the same. She was there with him in spirit, in the stars, but not beside him.
Quietly, he mouthed the rhyme. Afterward, he requested, very quietly. "I want to find Micaiah." It was a simple wish, one he'd been making since the night she was gone. Months passed, and no Micaiah. He was starting to wonder if his wish was all wrong. Maybe what he really meant was that he didn't want to be alone again. He didn't know.
It had only been a few minutes, but Sothe suddenly couldn't stand being outside anymore, under the stars. Not bothering with the threat of guards, he sheathed his weapon, sprang up, walked up to the back entrance, and entered.
Another boy was also breaking curfew. Tormod sat on his bed, staring across the room where the desk was. There, his four tall candles stood, illuminating his room. Lined up on the candleholder, the flames seemed to stare back at him. There was a thin space that split the four candles, so that it appeared as two candles on the left and two candles on the right, but still four candles as a whole.
One of the flames seemed to be dwindling down. Tormod opened his tome, ran his fingers along the words, and with the flick of his fingers the flame grew back again, further lighting up the room.
What he didn't know was that the door was still ajar. Bright light spilled outside, practically announcing to everyone outside that Tormod was breaking the rules. He jumped when the door squeaked open.
His visitor had green hair and golden eyes, he noticed at once. But it wasn't Muarim. It was Sothe, that unsocial boy he'd been trying so hard to befriend!
"Hey, Sothe!" Tormod greeted him. "What are you doing here?"
"Your door was open. I was wondering why you were still awake."
"Oh. Thanks, then."
Sothe gestured at the candles. "Some of the flames are red. Doesn't that mean they are about to burn out?"
"Not at all! Thanks for asking. These are very special candles. They tell time."
"Really."
"Yes, really! Here, I'll show you!" Tormod hopped off the bed and walked over to the candles. "See these two candles on the left half? The flames are both the same color, a very deep red. When the fire is this shade of red, it stands for '1'. So since these two on the left are both red, it means that right now it's '11', or the eleventh hour.
"But the ones on the right side are different. They tell minutes. See how this one," Tormod at the left candle on the right half, "is violet? That stands for '0'. And the candle on the right is a very dark blue, and that color stands for '9'. So the time is 11:09."
"That's amazing," Sothe said at last. "Is there anything else it does?"
"It lights up the room!" Tormod joked. "But seriously, the colors blend into really beautiful light sometimes. I haven't figured it how exactly it works. The one on the very right changes color every 1 minute. The one next to it changes every ten minutes, but never goes higher than 5 before going back to 0. And the candles on the left side never go higher than 12. Strange, right?"
At that moment, the two flames on the right changed color. The left one reverted to a deep red. The right one blended into a violet color.
"Now, it's 11:10, right?" Sothe asked.
"That's right, friend!" At that outburst, Sothe shot Tormod a dirty look.
"So," Sothe said. "Where did you get this?"
Tormod's face suddenly became very serious. "Muarim was a slave for one of those pompous Begnion nobles. One thing he had to do for the noble's wife, who was a Mage, was make these time-telling candles for her. He was very good at it. Then, when he escaped and found me, he found out I was a Mage too. So he made them for me. I told him he didn't have to, but he said he feels uncomfortable if he doesn't make them each morning. In fact, it's habit for him. That's how deep slavery is rooted in him."
Sothe said nothing; he simply listened.
"I didn't want him to make them anymore, so he showed me how to do it. It's not very hard to make. You just find the specific minerals that changes the flames' color. Rub them in the right order on a strong candle wick. After that, you stick it in soft candle wax. If you do it right, the fire will burn in rainbow order. That's how you can tell what the numbers are."
The minute candle shifted into red. 11:11. Now all the candles emitted the exact same color. They casted an eerie crimson light across the room.
Tormod concentrated very hard, completely shutting out the world. After a moment, he blew a kiss to his clock.
"Why did you do that?" Sothe asked in a hushed voice.
"I made a wish," Tormod replied.
"On 11:11? Why? What did you wish for?"
"I can't tell you now," the Mage whispered, nervously gazing around the room. Sothe was spooked.
"See, there are many rumors about 11:11. Some people think that good occurrences are connected with 11:11. Others think that it brings fortune and good luck. The Mage that Muarim worked for thought that it signals a spirit's presence. She wanted to increase her magical abilities, so she would wait, day and night, for 11:11."
He flicked his fingers. A huge spiral of fire shot from his hand, zooming across the room before it died out. The flames on the candle suddenly doubled in size and remained that size.
"But I just make a wish. Aren't you going to make one?" Tormod queried.
"Umm, no. That's okay. I wasn't out here to check on you," Sothe admitted. "I actually went outside, and when I came back inside, I saw that your door was open. I also have a tradition for making wishes too, only I wish on stars. If Mi- the person I'm looking for was here, she would tell me not to make too many wishes, or the soul will become impoverished." Not to mention this is creepy, Sothe thought. The room was silent. Every small movement or sound made them jump.
After what felt like eternity, the flames died down into a more reasonable size. The minute candle brightened just a shade more orange. Tormod exhaled. "It's 11:12 now."
"So, what did you wish for?"
"Oh, yeah. I wished for me and Muarim to be able to make a difference in Commander Ike's army and the laguz Emancipation Army. Commander Ike is more different than anyone I know. He's a person that really cares for justice for both beorc and laguz. Earlier today, we were talking to the empress about the laguz slavery issue, and Ike said that these sort of things really bothered him. I just hope that I can make a difference in the world for laguz, or at least in Begnion. I hope I'm doing the right thing."
What a powerful wish. Tormod always acted cheerful, but it turned out he could be serious too. And when he was, the things he would say made Sothe respect him quite a bit. It impressed him even more that this kid was willing to try to changed the world, even with all the odds against him.
"You are," Sothe said. "I can see that you have a passion for what you do. 'Follow and believe in your dreams, because all things are possible if you do what you think is right.' That is what my sister would say."
"Thanks, best friend," Tormod smiled.
"Don't call me that." As the thief exited the room, closing the door behind him, Tormod thought, Maybe tomorrow I should wish for us to be best friends...
Another day, another battle, another new recruit. At least Soren had been able to complete the contract verbally during the battle. All he'd needed to do was pass along the terms of agreement to Ike, which he did when they met to discuss the battle report. So he headed to the library again, planning on researching ancient books and whatnot.
That is, until he rounded a corner and saw a silhouette of someone. A moment later, it disappeared.
Soren took out his tome. "Who goes there?"
The person came into view. It was just Stefan. Soren didn't put away his tome.
"Don't be alarmed. I am... One of your kind."
"My kind?" Soren replied. "Unlikely." Stefan was just wasting his time now. He slipped his tome back in his robes, turned and walked away. There was another route to the library.
"I see that I've puzzled you. I'll let you think on what I said. Next time our paths cross, we can talk more on this."
Soren ignored him, not looking back to see where Stefan went.
The Mage stormed out of the library, the books still scattered about on a desk. His sandals clacked loudly on the stone corridors. Once thought of as a paradise of words, the library now sickened-no, suffocated him-with its cruel, cruel knowledge.
He stumbled into his room, slammed the door shut, and collapsed on his knees. The tears fell, unbidden. He wept silently.
Soren now understood exactly what Stefan was talking about. He was Branded. According to the book he'd read, he was an abomination to the world, an untouchable. The book told him more about "his kind" than he ever wanted to know. It explained why those beast laguz in Gallia hated him so, why his caretaker was so eager to give him up, everything.
When he ran out of energy to cry, he lied down on the ground, unthinking. In the back of his mind, he knew that he had to be at his best-he called it biorhythm-if he wanted to be able to function as the army's strategist. But right now, his biorhythm struck an all-time low. He just needed a day to himself.
Hours later, he heard a knock on the door. He cleared his throat. "Yes?" He called hoarsely.
"Devdan is here to tell you it is time for dinner."
It was the new recruit, Devdan. He had an annoying voice and didn't speak this language very well, Soren noted. The quirky halberdier didn't seem to have an accent, but Soren wondered if he really was from around here.
"Don't speak in third person like that. It's a complete disregard for the language."
"Commander Ike has orders for you to come join the others for dinner."
Soren regained his composure, cleared his throat again (he was thirsty), unlocked the door, and nearly walked into Devdan. Stupid delusional man, standing right in front of the door. As they tread down the halls, Devdan said, "Devdan notices that you are trying to hide something."
"What is your point? Keep your insignificant observations to yourself."
"Devdan is a friend to all young people."
"And then? Are you really trying to lure me into confiding in you?"
"Devdan is not trying to lure you to do anything. Devdan just thinks that you shouldn't be so alone. You need a friend."
"I have Ike and the Greil Mercenaries, thank you very much."
"Devdan still thinks you should tell someone."
"..."
The rest of the trip was made in silence. But as much as Soren wanted to forget about that senile man, his words did make sense. But Soren wanted to hide it. Forever. No one would ever have to know. As long as he kept himself together and evaded any and all subhumans, he would be okay.
But knowing that he was Branded was tearing him up. He long would it take for Soren to slip up, for a subhuman with a loose tongue to figure out, for a human to notice he wasn't aging? And how could he just carry on, hiding this from his only friend, Ike? He had a right to know.
They arrived at the mess hall. He noticed that Ike and the Greil Mercenaries weren't even there. So much for joining the others for dinner. They didn't even arrive until dinner was almost over. They kept whispering to each other and stealing glances at him. They were obviously up to something.
Either way, Soren went through the motions, mechanically eating his dinner, and then returned to his room. He had to start planning for the next battle, whether he was up for it or not.
It was late at night when a knock resounded from the door. Soren sighed and got up to open the door, and then his eyes widened in surprise. Ike and Titania were there to greet him. In fact, all the Greil Mercenaries arrived except for Mist, Rolf, and Shinon. They all crowded in the room.
"What is going on?" Soren asked, bewildered.
"Shinon, get in there!" He could hear Mist shout from the hallway. A grumpy red-haired archer was pushed in a moment later. Mist and Rolf followed in with a frosted cake, complete with burning candles.
"Happy birthday!" They cheered. Mia was especially loud.
"Oh." Soren remembered how every year, since no one knew his birthday (not even himself), they would make one up. It would be around this time of year, since it was around when he first came to join the Greil Mercenaries. Soren wondered what it must feel like to Mia, being the new one who didn't know much about their traditions.
On the small cake, seventeen small candles were crammed on there, so close together that the individual flames nearly touched one other and blossomed into one giant fire.
"What a waste," Soren simply said.
"We know, Soren, you don't approve of this cake," Ike began. "But this year we're in Begnion, and they have sugar to spare here, so we went to a bakery and bought a cake."
"We all chipped in, so I don't want any complaints, birthday boy," Titania added with a smile. Soren looked pointedly at Shinon.
"I didn't help pay for this," he claimed. "I wouldn't even give up one of Rolf's faulty bows for you, whelp."
"Hey!" Rolf protested.
"I had to pay twice as much to cover for Shinon and myself," Gatrie whined, but he smiled at Shinon, so everyone could tell he was teasing.
"Splendid. A birthday party for me with everyone in the company," Soren dryly remarked.
"Mia wanted to celebrate in front of the whole army," Rhys said. "But we thought it would be best if it were just us."
"When can we eat the cake?" Mia bounced up and down.
"After we sing and Soren blows out the candles," Titania responded.
"No cheating with your wind spells!" Boyd teased. Soren very faintly smiled. Every year he would do that, until his fourteenth birthday, when they'd finally caught him. Not that he'd need a wind tome; chanting spells all day did gain him an adequate lung capacity. It was just less tiring.
"Ready?" Ike said. He was more cheerful than normal, Soren noticed. "One, two three!"
"Happy birthday to you..." They whole company sang. He ducked his head.
"Happy birthday to you!" Rhys and Titania had very melodious voices, he noticed.
"Happy birthday to Sorennnnnnn..." Rolf's voice cracked at the high note. Even Shinon was singing, if only to try to make the song sound as bad as possible.
"Happy birthday to you!" They all ended. Soren didn't bother telling them the cacophony they'd created, what with everyone singing in a different key. But he appreciated the gesture. For a moment, he felt accepted.
"Birthday punches!" Gatrie shouted.
"I'd rather not," Soren objected, then realized a second later that the knight was joking. Oh.
Then, Oscar said, "You know, Soren, you don't look any different than you did last year."
Soren stopped breathing. Were they on to him?
But Mist smoothed out the tension, saying that "It's a compliment, Soren. Relax!" So he tried an attempt at normalcy again.
"Make a wish," Ike said quietly. Everyone was quiet.
Usually, he would glare at him and refuse to wish on a cake. But then, Greil would suggest he do so, and he would pretend to stop and think of a wish, out of respect for the commander. But now, he was gone, and Ike was the commander. He closed his eyes.
So what did he want to wish for? Soren knew wishing was pointless and a waste of everyone's time. Why base his hopes on something as insubstantial as a wish? It was meaningless. But for once he decided to humor himself.
Well, it's obviously too late to wish that I wasn't Branded. I'm already competent as a mage. I simply don't wish for anything. There's nothing to wish for.
But in the back of his mind, the words of Devdan tugged at him. It was true; he needed to tell someone. So should he wish for someone to tell this to?
What he truly needed was the courage to confide his secret. But he also needed someone who would be unbiased, understanding, and accepting. And he thought he knew just the person.
Soren's eyes snapped open. He made his decision. He took a big breath, and blew.