He swore, a million times, over and over until the mantra wore his mind ragged, that he would not allow himself to fall in love with her. But then again, he was likely lying to himself all along, because here he was now - helplessly smitten, as he had been for a very long time.
When did it all begin, anyway?
It wasn't an infatuation that manifested suddenly, a Shakespearean miracle upon first sight. These sorts of things took time, and a lot of it.
When Seth first met Eirika, he was barely four years old, still a tiny little child hiding behind his mother's graceful legs, clutching the end of her skirt as they attended the blessing of the newborn heirs of Renais. The court was abuzz with excitement over the arrival of not just a healthy child born to King and his wife, but baby twins, a boy and a girl. Such a miracle brought nobles and dignitaries from all walks of life to Castle Renais, crowding the palace grounds on the day of the blessing. However, as his family maintained deeply historical and loyal ties to the monarchy, they were invited privately to meet the new prince and princess.
Seth didn't comprehend the significance of the event as his parents, brothers, and the king and queen spoke, standing around two grand cribs. He gazed curiously around the castle interior, entranced by the grandeur of it all, daydreaming about strong knights defeating dragons and monsters, until his mother suddenly scooped him up into her loving arms. She allowed him to hook his small elbows around her neck and peer into the cradles of the infant brother and sister, who remained sound asleep despite the party surrounding them.
This was the first time Seth had ever seen a baby - the age difference between his elder brothers and him was upwards of eight years. At the sight of Eirika, he was immediately transfixed by her rosy cheeks and stumpy fingers, clenched into tiny fists as she slept. An intricate white dress adorned the newborn, and Seth noticed how its flowing, shimmering fabric overwhelmed her tiny body, as if the child would drown in the garb. He wondered how the little girl could survive if she didn't even know how to properly wear clothes.
"Seth, this is Princess Eirika, and that is Prince Ephraim," his mother cooed as she balanced him on her hip. "When you are older, your primary duty as a knight of Renais will be to protect them." The taciturn child continued to gaze at Eirika. He accepted his mother's word, as he would for the rest of his life, constantly reminded of his duty and station as a knight.
He would protect her.
He saw he periodically around the castle, a vibrant little girl with hair the color of the summer sky who frolicked about the grounds. It was June, and the atmosphere was flooded with the verdant scent of flowers and grass that sprung up as the weather warmed. Childish giggles and taunts jingled in the air, accompanied by fleeting bird songs that caught Seth's ear as he sat cross-legged beneath the green canopy of an oak tree, benignly observing the other boys play war with wooden swords - he had been playing too, but was impaled by Kyle's lance and resided to sitting out as "dead".
It didn't bother him much to play along with the imaginations of the younger boys. There was a certain serenity about watching Ephraim, Kyle, Forde, and Franz romp around the lawn and pretend to be big, strong, decorated soldiers. They comprised most of the children of the palace, along with little Eirika, who hated to be away from her brother but didn't want to play war either. Rather, she skipped about in grass that grew to her knees, bobbed hair bouncing energetically on her neck as she made her way to Seth.
Eirika plopped down next to Seth, dwarfed by his tall, lanky figure even when seated. "Sir Seth!" she cheered, a gap-toothed grin illuminating her face. "Will you play with me? Please?"
Cordially, he smiled back, though more tight-lipped and quiet than Eirika had, as if telling a secret. "You didn't want to play with Ephraim?"
"I don't like war," she pouted.
"What should we play then?"
She glanced upward. "Ummm…. Hide…. Hide and seek."
"Let's all play, then!" Ephraim exclaimed suddenly. Having overheard the conversation, the boys stopped their game and bounded toward Eirika and Seth. Eirika's brother lead the pack, followed by the other two boys his age, then tag-along Franz, all still wielding their toys (though the branch in Franz's grip didn't count much as a lance).
Eirika nodded her head excitedly. "Yeah, yeah! Who should be it?"
"I wanna!" said Franz, with his fingers in his mouth – an unfortunate habit, but only natural for the four-year-old.
"No, no, Franz, you're no good at counting yet!" argued his older brother, Forde, a boy with blond hair that brushed his shoulders as he shook his head disapprovingly at Franz.
Seth rose from his seat, towering over the other children as he dusted grass off his trousers. "I suppose I could play seeker," he proposed.
"Yeah! Count really loud, okay! To… ten!" Ephraim instructed.
"Naturally." Without wasting a second, Seth turned to face the tree he had been shaded by, shut his eyes, and began counting.
"I'm not ready!" Eirika squealed frantically.
"One."
Grass rustled beneath the scampering of children's feet. "Two. Three."
Silence.
"Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… ten."
Slowly, Seth opened his eyes and turned to the courtyard once more. It was completely abandoned, devoid of the youthful energy that filled it seconds before. Thus, he began his search, dampening the noise of his boots against the earth as he crossed the lawn. He sought to move as stealthily as possible, remaining undetected to catch the other players for the tag.
Seth paused in his tracks. Carefully, he listened for the sound of movement.
There was, oddly enough, a faint whimper coming from the area closer to the castle, from an alleyway between the exterior wall and the knights' quarters. Briskly, he walked towards the crying to investigate, turning the corner into the shade cast by the proud brick walls. To his surprise, there was a little girl squatting in the dimness, sinking into a despondent little heap in the dirt floor.
Seth became worried, and a peculiar, anxious feeling turned in his stomach. Hiding the vacillation in his voice took some effort. "Eirika? Was there an accident? What happened?"
Eirika, overcome by sobs and hiccups, couldn't look up at Seth. He had to inch closer to her still, kneeling down to her level and resting his hand on her back. "Eirika, look at me now," he told her gently. "Are you alright?"
She looked up at him helplessly, eyes red and swollen from weeping, to reveal the corpse of a sparrow between her feet. A collection of slender feathers spread around its body as it lay with tawny wings bent at awkward angles, apparent that it had fallen directly from flight. What a travesty: the blithe creature that belonged in the sky, confined to the dust of earth for eternity.
Sniffling, Eirika rubbed at her nose with a closed fist, smearing tears across her cheek. "S-Seth… he… I think he died…"
"Yes…" Seth replied dismally. "He's passed away."
"That's sad… that's really really sad… !" she sobbed.
His gaze shifted downward, to his feet. "I know."
"Why… why does it happen?"
Seth sighed – leave it to Eirika to ask the big questions. "Well, it's… it's just how it is, Eirika; don't cry. Sometimes, this sort of thing has to happen," he explained, taking time to meticulously plan his words, so not to upset her further. "There has to be death; it's the only way others can live."
"What?"
"I suppose that's a little over your head." Seth chuckled under his breath. "It's something King Fado told me in training once. I don't understand it all myself yet, either."
Eirika turned her head back to the ground, shrouding her face with hair, which appeared almost grey in the half-light.
"Do you want to come with me to find Ephraim and the others?" Seth asked. "We can have a proper burial for the bird."
Wordlessly, she grabbed his hand. Seth rose, assisting Eirika up from the ground, and lead her out of the alley and back into the sunlight. Ephraim, Franz, Forde, and Kyle had all emerged from hiding on their own will, and awaited them in the courtyard.
"Seth, you took too long to find us!" Kyle complained loudly.
"We found a dead bird," Seth replied unemotionally. "We're all going to attend to its burial." He felt Eirika's hand quiver in his grip, as she was still visibly quite upset over her discovery. Seth ached for her – the little girl had seen a bit too much, he thought - but there was little more he could do for her than stroke the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly.
The funeral took place under Seth's tree. As the leader of the younger boys, Ephraim officiated the ceremony, giving his words about the sparrow and how he was a good bird who lived a good life, thank you gods and amen. For Eirika's sake, the others attempted to keep the mood light, perplexed as to why she was so torn up over the bird. She was the only one who wept over the grave, tear after tear falling on the small dirt mound.
Her fingers tightened around Seth's hand as she sniffed and tried to hold back tears. She tried and tried, but to no avail.
"Seth…" she choked. "I… I don't want to cry… anymore."
It was years later, during the last winter holiday before the Grado invasion, when the grand, powerful general of the Knights succumbed to the icy clutches of pneumonia. In December, in a chilly great hall before a mourning king, Seth was appointed general in his father's place. The Silver Knight, he came to be called, a shining and sturdy force of Renais who came off the coattails of his golden father; shining and sturdy like December and ice and snow.
Only a few months following that, he spoke to Prince Ephraim privately regarding grave news. The weather was warming now, and snow reduced to patchy slush at their feet; yet Seth felt frozen to the core.
"There are reports of turmoil in Grado," Ephraim said, lips stretched thin in concern. "Vigarde's forces have breached the southern border."
"I've heard as such," Seth agreed.
There was an empty moment as Ephraim shifted his feet, clearly planning his words.
"I intend to infiltrate."
The declaration resonated in the air with a certain gravity that shook and stirred Seth's heart. His brow furrowed at the prince's agenda. How reckless... the crown prince laying his life on the line, just like that! He'd been trained in combat, of course; it was Seth who helped shape his skills with a lance. But too much was a stake by letting him race off into war, a war that was catching fire as they spoke.
"Milord, you must reconsider this plan of yours," Seth pleaded. "It is fine if you wish to serve Renais in the fight, milord. But it would be best if you waited until we launch a full-scale assault, if one is initiated. You would be better protected by the side of the army than on your own."
Ephraim placed his gloved hands on his hips and smirked. "Oh, reliable Seth, I knew you would say that!" At his foresight, he chuckled beneath his breath, a laugh resembling sister's; a low, clear, bell sound. "But I've already gained my father's approval. Kyle, Forde, and Orson will all accompany me – see, we even have a paladin."
Seth glanced to the side.
"We're only doing this for the good of Renais."
"Then I request that I accompany you as well, sire, to keep the royal heir safe!"
Ephraim rested a hand on Seth's shoulder; he had grown so much, he was nearly at the knight's lofty stature, though not quite. "Unfortunately, Sir Seth, I have a request of my own for you," he said, and reached for his side. He pulled out a sheathed sword, a slender rapier, and presented it to Seth. "Please keep Eirika safe," he continued. "And don't let her know where I've gone, because she'll come running after me and get herself in trouble."
The sword felt miniscule and fragile in Seth's palms. "Naturally, Prince Ephraim…" he replied. "However, I already wield a blade of my own."
"Oh, the rapier isn't for you!" Ephraim laughed. "It's for Eirika. She knows how to defend herself, if she needs to, and gods know she'll wait until the very last moment to resort to… this." He motioned to the weapon. "Keep her safe, but guide her. Give her the sword if the time comes – but hopefully, we can snuff out this mad king before their army can reach the capital."
Eirika could indeed wield a sword – and beautifully at that, a nimble little thing who hopped and danced as she sparred with Ephraim in the castle courtyard. Seth had seen them. Around two years ago, it seemed that her brother finally convinced her to join him in training, and the two spent most of their spare time practicing together with wooden weapons; every other time Seth passed through the lawn, there they were, laughing and playing endlessly, filling the atmosphere with light, bubbly energy.
He and Ephraim faced each other in that same lawn now, the noble sword still resting flat in Seth's outstretched hands. A sigh escaped his lips. "As you command, sire," he conceded, and hooked the hilt next to his comparatively grandiose lance; a silver lance for the Silver Knight. It dwarfed Eirika's blade. "I will protect the princess."
This was the last thing Seth told Ephraim before the young prince fled the nation, leaving everyone – Eirika especially – confused and concerned. Everyone except Seth and King Fado, who anticipated the day Grado's forces came banging down the door of Castle Renais. It was as though simultaneously - he turned around once, and King Fado gave his final command; twice, and Seth stared death in the eyes, the dark, sunken eyes of a wyvern rider.
Valter's long, serpent – like hair billowed in the wind as he glared down at Seth, pale lips twisting into a snarl. "You there, with the girl," he shouted menacingly. "Tell me, would that be the wayward princess of Renais?"
Seth gripped Eirika's hand tightly. On the king's orders, he'd dragged her, abeit brusquely, out of the palace and was to ride on with her to Frelia. However, he hadn't even the time to mount his horse when the Grado army convened on the capital and their general confronted him and Eirika.
"Well, this must be my lucky day!" Valter chortled, eyeing the princess, then addressing Seth directly. "You're a dead man. The wench goes with me."
Instinctively, Seth pulled Eirika behind him, picking up her small, smooth hand as he held it in his leather – protected grasp. Even at the dawn of war, she maintained a sort of natural, placid beauty about her, ocean water hair disheveled and spilling off her shoulders, framing her wide, turquoise gems of eyes and pale, anxious face. Her attention darted rapidly about the environment, until, momentarily, her gaze caught Seth's, and the sight of her sparked a peculiar, warm feeling in Seth - something drastically different from the steel coldness he associated himself with.
Gritting his teeth, he gently dropped her hand and reached instead for his lance. Seth turned to face Valter again, planting his boots firmly in the stone – paved ground.
"Never!" he shouted with intense conviction, surging through his voice like fire and burning into his movement as he brandished his weapon, rushed toward the enemy, reached with his entire body, and stabbed at the underbelly of Valter's mount with sharpened silver. But the attack missed. Seth faltered, losing his balance in the thrust and falling to his knees. The wyvern had nimbly avoided the point of Seth's lance, pulling up out of the dodge by batting its majestic, ebony wings and throwing dust and wind into Seth's face.
Valter's vehement voice echoed in Seth's ears as he scrambled to his feet.
"You're just a corpse who doesn't know he is dead."
With that, he lunged at Seth with his own lance, far too quick for the knight to even attempt to avoid it. In a nightmarish flash, he struck Seth, cutting him on the right side of his chest and knocking him down once more. First, Seth felt the pop of a breaking rib, and then pain seared through his body like a terror, radiating from the gash Valter cleaved.
Eirika screamed.
"Ahh… no!" Seth grunted, clutching his sanguine wound and staggering up. But once he found balance once more, it felt as though the injury was invisible, and Seth ran on fervid adrenaline. He grabbed Eirika once more, not my the hand, but scooped her into his arms and ran to his steed. Without thought, he quickly hoisted the princess upon the horse, mounted himself, and dashed away with the hard kick of his boot. Behind them, danger consumed their homeland – but there was no time to look back.
They rode for hours after the escape, shaking off the last of the troops and advancing towards the Border Mulan. Thin, quivering arms wrapped around Seth's waist, and a steady flow of tears soaked into his back from where Eirika rested her head. The scent of the palace still wafted off of her – gentle perfumes and clean linens – but now the scent mixed with the blood that stained Seth's coat.
He felt sick to his stomach.
She didn't deserve this. Well, no one did. No one deserved to be chased out of the country they loved by the tip of a sword. No one deserved to have the weight of a missing brother and a presumably doomed father. And Eirika didn't even know about the secret her bracelet held, a secret more divine and pivotal than what already burdened her.
Eirika didn't deserve this because the burden would be more justly shouldered on someone like Seth, who accepted the complexity and cruelty of the world. Not her, not the princess who was kind and compassionate and benign, not the princess who now had to wear a sword by her side and take up the defense against a previously ally nation.
Seth was supposed to protect that princess - she was a luminent, matchstick flame to be shielded from violent winds. And yet, as her tears fell through his coat and into his back, he felt her flame extinguishing, and knew he failed.
So why not take her to safety?
Not to Frelia. Frelia meant politics, which meant war, which meant they weren't really escaping.
But Seth didn't have to go to Frelia. He could keep going.
He could just ride and ride and ride until they were far away from Renais, and Grado, and Frelia, and Magvel. Then Eirika would be surely secure, which was what she deserved - not a life of troubles and concerns. This peculiar desire unfolded itself within him; not quite loyalty, not quite defiance, and not quite compassion, but something more. Something new manifested in Seth, something that pulled Eirika in and never let her go, creating a new little universe of just Seth and Eirika without the realities of the war and the Stones and the dead king.
His eyes glanced skyward. The heavens were littered with thousands and thousands of stars, a cluttered, natural map that guided Seth, along with the pale illumination of the moon.
He squinted up at them. What good were stars as a guide?
What power did they have over the will of a knight?
Defy the cosmos, defy the cosmic script composed by the gods. It was more complicated that Seth idealized – oh, how much better it would be to whisk Eirika away from the grasp of fate and war and turmoil. But navigating a way off the map of destiny was impossible. No one could escape the stars, perpetually fixed into place by higher powers than man knew, constantly hanging over the earth in their disgustingly serene beauty.
Seth heard a sniffle, followed by a fragile voice. "Seth… how long until we reach Frelia?"
He gazed up again. There sat the north star, proudly radiant in its place in its spot in the firmament. It was as if, not the divine, but Fado himself placed it there for the sake of his children and country. Seth had sworn an oath to that – not just for Eirika's protection, but Renais; and now that the violence blossomed as it did, likely the entire world.
It was painful.
And yet, it was his duty, his honor, to uphold his promise to the father of the princess who wrapped her arms around him, as if Seth was the only constant in the world, a fixed star in his own respect.
"No longer than another day's journey," he replied, and proceeded in leading the pair westward, guided by the brightest star.