FE Frog: I have absolutely no idea what possessed me to write a story centered around Soren. Anyone who had read PoC knows how much I loathe Soren. He's an amazing unit but... Well, I also just love making fun of him ^_^
Plus, this is Soren AND Ike. And it's a Zombie-of-sorts story. God help me.
But, in case anyone is wondering, this is inspired by a book I recently read. It's called 'Zombies Vs. Unicorns' and it is amazing. As the title suggests, it is a collection of short stories about Zombies and Unicorns!
So that's what caused this. Particularly the Zombie stories. Obviously. (But for the record, I'm still Team Unicorn)
On another note, this is Post-RD. I suppose you could say it's when Soren and Ike go off together. It would make sense. IMPORTANT: If it's not clear (although I hope it is) I think that if something really bad were to happen to Ike- say, him dying- especially on their little adventure together... Well, Soren would get pretty messed up mentally, wouldn't he?
ENJOY! Well, try to. It's kind of random...
Pale skin and dark eyes with purple circles under them. The brilliant blue of his hair was fading too. A small price to pay for his life.
Soren admired his handiwork. Truthfully, he had hoped it would go better, but this would have to do. It had all happened so fast, he hadn't known what else to do...
-oOo-
The bandits just appeared, out of nowhere, giving them no time to react. They had managed to finish them all off, but in the process... Honestly, Soren had probably killed more than half of them himself in his rage.
And when they were dead? Soren dropped to his knees at Ike's side. He didn't cry. Not at first. Maybe not at all. How would he have known? His mind was still reeling. How had the bandit gotten Ike by surprise? How had he run him through with a sword? How had he hurt the strongest man on the continent?
Soren took deep breaths, trying to think of something to do. Ike was still alive—bleeding, but alive. There was hope, even if the vulneraries were out and Soren's staff had long been used up. There was no point in panicking…
Fuck it. Soren was on the verge of hyperventilating. Not a logical thought went through his head. Not a single one.
"Stay alive, Ike… Please." Words were useless. Ike wouldn't hear him. He was unconscious.
It was just too much. Soren didn't think. He couldn't think. Not to bind the wound, or search the dead for their items. He had no idea what to do to save his friend—his first and only friend—from certain death.
He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. Relax. Calm down. Slowly, he began to think again. Pulse first.
Soren grabbed Ike's hand and put a thumb on his wrist. He couldn't feel anything.
He can't be dead. Not yet. He stared down at Ike. There was a stream of blood from his temple where he had been hit, running down his cheek. Though most of the blood was seeping out through the opening in his stomach and on his back, soaking into the ground under him.
Ike's skin was pale.
Soren finally thought to cover the wound. He tore a long, wide piece from his robes. He couldn't wrap it around Ike. He didn't want to risk moving him. And that's suggesting he could move him. So instead, Soren placed the cloth over the wound and pressed down.
He didn't even think about the warm blood now soaking his hands.
Another thought came, then. It was a whisper at first, but began to tug at his conscience the more he pushed it away. The book. It's your only hope.
No. Soren refused. He had only skimmed over that particular section. It dealt with darker magic, nothing he was accustomed to. He wasn't particularly comfortable with it, either. He had only wanted the tome for its rarity.
Why had he brought it with him, anyways? It's true he hadn't been able to finish it before they left. Some of the spells were interesting.
He's dead, Soren.
No!
The tome's pull was too strong. Soren left his spot beside Ike and went to the bag. He pulled the book out, barely noticing the red marks his fingers left on the cover.
He opened it to the page. "Resurrection" read the title. Soren stared at the page, unsure whether to try it out or not. His stomach turned at the thought of using it on Ike.
But what else could he do? Leave Tellius's Hero to be claimed by the Dark Angel? Possibly even some vultures? Impossible. How could Soren live with himself if he ever let that happen?
Alone. He would be alone, too. He couldn't live like that. Not without Ike. His decision was clear.
Soren knelt down by Ike once more and read the spell out. Nothing happened. So Soren laid his hand over Ike's chest and recited the words written on the yellowed paper.
A faint purple light emanated from his palm, only for a moment, and then disappeared.
Ike's hand twitched.
-oOo-
And now there Ike sat, hunched over on the rock. He stared blankly at nothing in particular.
Soren looked up and smiled ever so slightly at him. No reaction. He sighed and turned his gaze back down to the cloth. The blood that had been absorbed by the material came out in a stream that was quickly washed away by the river water.
Once it was clean enough, Soren stood and made his way back to Ike. He dabbed at the darkened crust on Ike's face first, until it was gone.
Ike stared back at Soren with those haunting black eyes. Soren would miss the orbs' former blue hue, but the empty darkness was better than nothing.
He started cleaning the blood from Ike's torso. "Are you feeling better yet?" He asked, being careful not to open the wound too much. Not that he had to be cautious. It didn't bleed. Was that part of the spell?
Ike grunted in response.
"That's good." Soren dabbed at the final specks of blood from Ike's greying skin. "I told you I would never let you die. Ever." He took Ike's bloodied clothes and brought them down to the river bank with him. He couldn't let Ike freeze, especially not as the nights got colder. But he didn't dare make Ike wear the soiled clothing either.
Ike could still feel things, right?
With a sigh, Soren dipped the shirt into the water. As he scrubbed, he noticed the blood on his hands from earlier. It had refused to go away.
He pulled the shirt out and laid it on the bank, then plunged his hands back into the cold. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but the blood was stubborn. Ike's blood. Ike's life. It was on his hands and would not go away.
Soren lifted his head and turned to Ike, who remained hunched over on the boulder. Ike was alive, was he not? The spell had resurrected him, hadn't it?
He certainly was not dead. But that didn't necessarily mean he was 'alive' either. Maybe he was neither.
Soren took a deep, shaky breath. He had brought Ike back to what? Certainly not life. What then?
Ike grunted again, and then tried to stand up. One of his legs buckled instantly and he collapsed into a heap on the ground. He groaned. It was a deep, hollow sound. He had never made a sound like that before… Before he died.
Soren looked back down at his hands. That was Ike's blood. It had seeped out of him. He could not live without it. But Soren had tried to fix that. Obviously, it hadn't quite worked how he thought it might. Now Ike… No, Ike was still dead. Only not dead.
Not alive, but not dead.
Soren got up from the ground and went to Ike, who was still crumpled up on the ground. Carefully, Soren pulled him up off the ground and set him on the rock. He seemed lighter now. Maybe it was the lack of blood.
What would he do without Ike?
"You mustn't be so careless." He brushed any dirt off of Ike, and then went back to cleaning.
Maybe he could fool himself into thinking Ike was still the same person.
Maybe he already had.