Yes well. This is from the perspective of Gawain, Ike's father. Just something I thought I'd write. I'd like to call it an educated guess. Muhahaha. Short, but sweet, I guess.
Come boy. Come at me again!
He swings his blade horizontally, slicing through the air and blocking my own. But it was foolish, boy. My blade slides down the length of his, forcing forwards and throwing his word tot the floor. Quickly he gathers it up again.
"Come now. Have you had enough?" I find myself saying.
"I have not!" He is obstinate, but that does not prevent me pushing him to the ground yet again. With fresh determination he forces himself to his feet, charging at me again, his blue hair splattered across his forehead. Roaring, he rushes forwards. Sighing slightly, I thrust my sword to one side, feinting, then swing under his defences and tap him on the chest.
I shake my head. "If that were an enemy, you would be dead by now," I say.
We clash swords again, exchanging more blows. Again he is thrown tot the floor. I laugh as he falls into a puddle of stagnant water.
"Overconfidence breeds defeat," I say, echoing one of Daein's mottos.
The boy is overconfident. But he is learning… and we have all the time in the world.
The training is going well. Slowly, he is learning. Day after day, his actions are becoming more refined, his muscles lacking the lax motions of before. He is showing speed and dexterity far beyond his years. He is growing up fast.
Too fast, some would say. Years fly by on his face. He is no longer the person I once took under my wing.
I see a young man before me, ready for new sites and new experiences. He longs for the battlefield. In that alone am I different to him. I am content to remain with my wife in Daein's service, until I am called for battle. I feel this lad will seek battle where ever it will be found.
I can hardly believe he that stands before me. A fire burns in his eyes, a strange blue blaze, filled with pain and yet immeasurable strength. I could hardly it believe myself when his guardian asked for me to train him. A strange man he was, so quiet and withstrained. Never once did I see him anger, even when I ferociously turned down his request at first.
And yet I know the day comes ever closer when I will have to return him. I hope he will have a good future.
And I will miss him when that day comes.
I reach to pat his head, to ruffle his sweaty hair like I did once when he was but a boy. I pause, realising he is no longer the child I once took under my wing. My hand falters, and his eyes gaze into my own. Such strength…
Strong enough perhaps to become an officer in Beginon's Army. Perhaps even a general like myself one day…
He is a young adult, and I feel his training has gone well enough for today. Still, there is yet more for him to learn. He must learn humility and reverence. He takes too much for granted, and I fear that will one day be the end of him.
In his mind too is rooted a bizarre hostility towards the Laguz race, one that the would do well enough to abandon soon. But few ever do.
Still, he is strong enough to make his own way in the world. I feel an odd sense of pride as I watch the sun set, my young warrior leaving through the trees, waving to my dear wife. I notice the tears in her eyes, and I smile. She was close to him.
Yes, that boy was like a son to me. The son I never had…
Someday he will be stronger, I know it. Who knows, perhaps we shall meet blades again someday. Then he will have to try me.
Good luck boy…
Good luck…
Zelgius.