Reflection in Sothe's POV.
Yeah, I don't own Fire Emblem.
The rain falls against the window pane, racing downwards in rivulets. A young man stands inside, his nimble fingers pressing against the glass.
War. He doesn't understand it. He knows they shouldn't be involved. He also knows that no one wanted to fight this battle.
"We don't have a choice."She had said, regret and fear evident in her downcast gaze.
He hated to see her so helpless. She deserved to be happy, they all deserved to be happy, living in the freedom that they had fought so hard for. And yet-
His breath, quickening in pace, fogs up the window. He can no longer see his eyes, his reflection.
"It's ironic," he thinks, "We've lost sight of who we are."
Killing, all the killing...People falling, their faces twisted into masks of fear. People falling like the rain; forgotten as individuals, just an insignificant soldier in an army. Merely units used to fight. Their desperate allies barely able to give them a second thought.
His fingers scrawl senseless letters in the mist. The jumble of markings and half completed words reflected his mind; Chaos, confusion- and then it all starts to fade.
Before, they'd had a reason. A purpose. They were fighting for their homeland, for the freedom that had been cruelly snatched away from them by a stronger nation. They were fighting for the people, and that somehow justified the bloodshed.
Now they were forced to fight people that they had nothing against. Stupid nobles, who craved power but did nothing themselves to earn it. Stupid war.They should have run away, quit while they were ahead. Now they were trapped, playing war because some selfish higher-ups had nothing better to do with their lives.
Someone calls his name. It was time to finalise the battle plans. ("You call these battle tactics? That- that'smurder!" He had expressed his dismay at the first meeting, butshetold him that there were orders to end the battle as soon as possible, with any means possible. Her voice had sounded empty and haunted.)
He misses the past, when life was simple. Even though there was always the question, "How will we get dinner tonight?", they had each other, not the weight of responsibility for a thousand lives.
But it's too late. He knows that once you start falling, there's no way back.
He turns, and walks down the hall. One word remains clear on the window.
Why?
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Thanks for reading.
-Teacups