Ike sat lying on the ground resting after a hard day's work. Him and his father, Greil, had sparred with wooden swords during the whole, hot afternoon. The wind was practically nonexistent that day but nevertheless Ike and Greil sparred on. However, it was evening now and a light, cool breeze blew across the valley in which Ike was resting.

Sadly, Ike hadn't managed to land a single blow on his father during their sparring session, and yet he remained determined during their rounds, and continued to spar with his father hoping to get a hit, even after several painful blows he received, some of which that left big dark bruises on his skin. But the afternoon was up and Greil was off to more important matters now, handling requests from villages for him and his band of mercenaries to take care of. Ike hoped that someday he would become a mercenary just like them and join them on their missions.

Ike thought of the mercenaries as a wonderful group. Many times he had actually watched them practice. But besides thinking of them as great warriors, Ike also loved them as if they were his own family, which is in fact what he thought of them as.

There was Titania, commander of the mercenaries. A strong, courageous woman who could always be trusted in the battlefield, even during the most heated moments.

Then there was Rhys, a kind, gentle-hearted priest who took care of the band's injuries during battle with the use of his staff. He never failed to mend any fatal wounds his fellow mercenaries had, even putting his own life at risk in order to save them.

Then Shinon and Gatrie, Shinon, a very reiliable archer who never seemed to miss his target, and Gatrie, a powerful and talented armored knight and one of the strongest of the mercenaries, perhaps only bested in strength by Greil.

There was also the generous and very kind Oscar, a lance knight. Oscar was also a very talented cook, however, he didn't cook often, but when he did everybody sure enjoyed his wonderful meals he prepared. His two younger brothers, the headstrong Boyd, a rival of Ike, and Rolf, the youngest of the three who holds a friendship with Mist, like Ike have not yet become mercenaries.

And there was Soren, the staff officer of the mercenaries who while may have been sort of cold hearted at times, but was a very smart and knowledgeable mage who helped plan out the team's strategic maneuvers.

However, the day that Ike would join the mercenaries on their missions seemed very far off, Ike had never once came even close to defeating Greil in a sword fight, but his determination continued to drive him, giving him hope that he would someday become as good a warrior as the mercenaries or even his father.

"Hey, Ike!" a voice called over the valley a few yards away from where Ike was resting. It was Mist, Ike's younger sister. "Dinner is ready!" she said, running up to him. "Did you rest well?"

Mist looked down at Ike noticing the big dark bruises he had imprinted on him. She sighed saying, "I wish you wouldn't push yourself so hard all the time, especially in this heat."

"I told you before Mist, if I don't push myself as hard as I do, I'll never become a mercenary!"

"I know...it's just that I'm afraid if you're not careful, you'll end up getting hurt."

"Don't worry about me, Mist. I'll be fine. Me and father only use wooden swords."

"But those wooden swords can really hurt! Look at those big bruises you have. Those have to be painful!"

"Come on, trust me Mist."

"Well...okay," she said, finally convinced. "Just promise me that you will take a break whenever you need to."

"Okay, okay, I promise. Now I'm ready to eat!"

The kitchen that everybody ate in was actually of fair size. All the cooking utensils anybody would ever need could be found in the northern side of the room. The cupboards held many, many plates, bowls, cups, and glasses. One of the cupboards however, held very old dishes made of fine china which weren't ever used. Every time Ike and Mist saw them, they always thought,"Those must be worth a fortune!" However, they would never sell them to anybody no matter how much they were worth. For the plates used to be their mother's, traditionally passed down to her as they had been for several generations.

Once everybody was seated and ready to eat, they all dug into their food, which was thanks to Mist and Oscar. Mist had cooked the meat and fried the rice while Oscar had gotten all the vegetables out of his garden outside the mercenary base. And while everybody ate, they spoke to one another about various subjects, in the mercenaries' case, about the last mission they had finished.

"So Ike," said Boyd, sitting in the seat next to him. "Did you come any closer to beating your father this time?"

"Well...I-"

"Ha! What a loser! You really need to toughen up, you know that?"

"Boyd, just leave Ike alone!" yelled Mist.

"I'm just saying. You'd think he had at least managed to come a little closer considering all the bruises he has on him. If you keep going at this rate, you will never become a mercenary. You haven't even managed to defeat me before."

"Boyd, that's enough!" said Greil, who was sitting on the very end of the table, listening to the conversation.

"But I was just...oh, alright, yes sir."

Ike felt like a complete idiot.

Once he had finished eating, Ike headed to his room. When asked why he was going to bed so early, Ike just simply gave the reply, "I'm very tired from sword practice," which everybody believed because they all knew how hard Ike always worked during his sword fighting sessions with Greil. But Ike knew that wasn't the whole truth. What Boyd had said had really made him pretty down so he wasn't really in the mood to chat with anyone at the moment, which everyone always did with one another even after dinner had ended.

Even though Ike felt very tired, he still couldn't sleep. Boyd's last sentences to him continued to repeat over and over in Ike's head. "If you keep going at this rate, you will never become a mercenary. You haven't even managed to defeat me before!"

However, what bothered Ike the most was that what Boyd had said was the absolute truth. Never had he defeated Boyd who was barely any older than him, or even come close to defeating Greil! Yet he had always remained determined that one day he would get better. However, that determination seemed to be faltering. But before Ike could think anymore on the subject, his eyes finally gave up on him and he drifted off into a deep sleep.

When Ike had awakened, he looked out through his window and saw that the sun was shining brightly, high in the sky. Apparently, he had sleepen late. It must have been almost noon by now. However, it didn't matter much. It was Monday, and his father and him never sparred any other time during the week except on Saturday when Greil and his mercenaries only had to work on missions during the evening.

After getting dressed and brushing his teeth, Ike walked to the kitchen. Mist, Rolf, and Boyd were sitting at the table eating lunch. Apparently, Mist must had set out a plate and silverware for him. Ike sat down in the seat next to Rolf where his plate and silverware were laid out. Ike was glad that Mist hadn't set them out next to Boyd. He still wasn't in a good mood about what he had said yesterday.

"Hi, Ike," greeted Rolf.

"How are you doing Ike?" said Mist.

"Rest well?" asked Boyd sarcastically.

"I was tired from yesterday," said Ike, putting some food on his plate from the saucers that sat laid out in the middle of the table. The food was leftovers from the night before.

"Tired for nothing! You didn't even manage to land a blow on Greil after hours of practice. Like I said last night, if you keep going at this rate, you will never become a mercenary!"

"Are you still keeping on about that?" replied Ike. He could feel his anger rising.

"Boyd, why don't you just leave Ike alone?" said Mist.

"I'm just trying to give him some advice! And I'm right too. It's possible that before long he'll become nothing but a helpless loser!"

He had had enough. Suddenly, Ike rose from his seat, and before Boyd knew it, he had been punched hard in the face. He stumbled out of his chair onto the floor. Ike stood over him panting, his fists clenched gritting his teeth. But he didn't stay like this for long. It was like Ike had just realized what he had done for the expression that could be read on his face had changed, from anger to one of sadness at what he had done.

Ike sat on his bed with his back hunched over. He was still panting. Why had he done it? Why had he punched Boyd? Why hadn't he just ignored him like he always did when he was acting like an idiot? But the truth was that Boyd had hit a weak spot on Ike. What he said had finally made Ike lose control over his anger. But there was nothing he could do about what he did now, what was done was done. "What will father think of me?" Thought Ike to himself. "Will he be disappointed at me?" After a few moments passed, Ike heard a knock on his door. Mist walked in.

"Ike?" she said softly to him. "Are you feeling alright?" But Ike didn't reply back. It was hard to find the right words to answer Mist's question. He was feeling all sorts of things at the moment. After a couple of minutes of silence passed, Mist began to speak again.

"You shouldn't feel bad that you hit Boyd. He was acting like a jerk."

"But I still shouldn't have done it," said Ike, finally speaking. "I should have just ignored him like always. What will father think of me?" Mist stood silent for a moment as if unsure of what she should say.

"I'm sure he'll understand," she finally said. "He knows how Boyd has been treating you."

"Yeah, maybe so, but I still don't think I should have done it. Is Boyd alright?"

"He's fine. Just has a bleeding nose is all."

"Good, I was afraid I might have broken it."

"It wouldn't have hurt."

"Mist!"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just kidding." Ike had to smile.

After Mist left, Ike lyed down on his bed staring at the ceiling. He never did have all that much to do on weekdays. Unpurposely and despite the fact that he had slept a lot already, Ike drifted off to sleep.

"Hey, Ike!" Ike opened his eyes and to his amazement there stood Boyd. "Would you like to spar with me?" Ike wasn't sure of what he should say to Boyd. He was still surprised that he was even talking to him after what had happened in the kitchen during lunch. However, he couldn't refuse. And so Ike said to Boyd,"Sure, I guess."

The two of them went outside near the forest where Ike and Greil always sparred. Both readied their wooden swords. They were planning to go all out in this match.

"You ready?" asked Boyd.

Ike simply nodded. And only seconds later the two had locked swords. Both pushed with all their strength on the opposing weapon, ready for their own sword to overcome the other so they could make a strike at their opponent. Ike was the one to be overcome. Boyd taking advantage of the situation, stopped pushing his own sword against Ike's and swiftly made a vertical slice aimed at his shoulder. But Ike was quick to see this move and jumped back away from the slice just barely missing it.

Almost as quickly, Ike charged forward and did a vertical slice of his own. Catching the slice with his own sword, Boyd pushed Ike back with a sudden forceful push from his sword to Ike's.

After exchanging clashes of swords with one another for several minutes, Ike began to tire. He was beginning to lose his swiftness and perfect reflexes for Boyd's attacks. With one last swipe of the sword from Boyd, the battle was over. Boyd had made Ike's own sword slip from his grasp leaving him defenseless. Ike couldn't help but show his disappointment in his loss.

"That was a good match," he said. "But surely you can do better than that. I mean come on!" Ike gave Boyd an angry look. How disappointed he was to see that Boyd was still acting like such a jerk. But Boyd continued. "Which is why I think we should go for another match," he said. "I bet this time you will do even better." Ike smiled.

"Bring it on!" said Ike.

And so they sparred again. However, Ike didn't win. It was still one year later when Ike finally managed to defeat Boyd. But Ike's determination never faltered again. His friends ( including Boyd ) continued to give him encouragement which helped drive him onward towards his dream. And most importantly, Ike's dream finally came true.