After somewhat of a time jump, I am continuing Ike's story with his son. I had originally just had the opener in mind, and as I wrote, the whole idea just sort of came to me.


Ike's eyes fluttered open as sunlight poured through the window. He instinctively held up his arm to keep the light off of his face. He knew without looking the bed was empty, but that was how it normally was. She would be up before the sun, and she often left him to sleep.

He slowly sat up, his eyes adjusting to the daylight. As he gathered his clothes from the floor, he listened for noises. The inn was quiet, but the smell of baking bread filled the air. He might have missed breakfast, but that would be no problem. He dressed and went off in search of Selyne.

He did not have to go far to find her. She was behind the desk where she did business, only a few feet from her room. A book lay open in front of her. Her hair was pinned up, away from her face. The sound of the door opening caught her attention.

"Good morning," she said with a smile. She shut the book and laughed as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I thought I would let you sleep."

"You always do," he reminded her. He sighed as he inhaled the faint earthy scent that always clung to her. "You aren't busy?" he asked. "I'm sure there's a pest in your garden you can chase."

"It's quiet, I wanted a moment." He looked over her shoulder to the journal in front of her. She usually wrote in it late at night, but as he shared her room when he was around, it often sat unnoticed on her bedside table. He had never bothered to read it; it was for her own private thoughts. But he found himself curious.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"You know where Soren is. Everyone else is either asleep, left, or scouring the marketplace. I need to go myself." She leaned her head back so she could look at him. "Do you want to go with me, since you're awake? I can use a strong hero to help carry my purchases."

"Whatever you need," he told her.

"Or," she added with a smirk, "we could go back to bed for a little while."

He laughed as he pressed his face against her neck. "Surely that can wait?"

"Hmm, just a thought." She sighed wistfully and shut her eyes. "You're leaving again soon, aren't you?"

"Yes, I"

Ike found himself awoken from a deep sleep by the sound of his bedroom door slamming against the wall. "Come on, old man, are you going to sleep all day?" He sat up and blinked as his surroundings as he remembered where he was.

He was not with Selyne. Far from it. He was in an inn with his closest friend, Soren, and his and Selyne's son. Sel had grown from a sweet, affectionate child to the seventeen-year-old who stood at the foot of his bed, a scowl on his face. Soren had followed him into the room, furious.

"I told you to leave him alone," he snapped.

"It doesn't matter, Soren, I'm awake." Ike sat up and sighed. It was going to be a long day. Mornings where he woke up dreaming about Selyne always were. She was long gone, as was her journal. Soren had stolen it for him, but he could not handle reading it and destroyed it in a fit of grief. "Is it late?"

Before Soren could answer, Sel spoke up. "I have been cooped in this inn for three days. Get dressed."

Soren glared at him. "You are not the parent." Though he was much shorter than his companions, Soren did not have any trouble holding his own, especially in the now frequent squabbles between father and son.

"Neither are you."

"Enough!" Ike flung the blankets off himself and swung his legs over the bed. "I'm up. I'm getting dressed. Give me a few minutes, wait downstairs, and try not to kill each other." Sel left without another word, but Soren stayed behind for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I tried to keep him busy, but you know how he is. I don't know where the ego and attitude has come from, but someone needs to knock it out of him."

"I know," Ike sighed. "And I'm sorry I snapped. It's just going to be a long day, try to bear with me."

Soren nodded and left. Ike stood and ran a hand through his hair. Sel often remarked, less than kindly at that point, how it was starting to gray. The time of replying with, "Yes, and all because of you," was long gone. His movements were slow. He was not feeling his age, despite the slight change to his hair color. He felt the same, was still in shape, and trained nearly every day. His mind was racing, and that was what slowed him down.

He found himself dreaming of Selyne a lot recently. His had the theory that it had to do with Sel. His behavior as of late would not be something his mother would be pleased to see. But he did not have the time to dwell on it. He dressed quickly, but warmly, and joined Sel and Soren downstairs.

Soren waited near the stairs while Sel scowled by the door. Without a word, he slipped outside. Ike and Soren followed. The snow that had fallen for three days had finally ceased, though it blanketed everything. But the village was finally alive. Men and women cleared snow or chopped firewood while the children found the frozen over pond to be a new playground or pelted each other with snowballs. As two young boys darted across their path, Ike sidestepped them and a snowball.

"What do you think, Soren?" Ike asked. He did not mean the question about the snowman three children were making or the young women who had paused in the middle of clearing snow from their walks to cast admiring looks at his son. Soren knew what he did mean.

"I think at this point, we'll have to take service with a lord, at least under the thaw comes. I haven't seen much in the way of mercenary groups." Service under a lord was not so bad. It always meant a roof over their heads, a warm fire, and meals. It also meant that they were allowed to train among the knights of the castle, and perhaps the younger lords as well.

Sel scoffed. "I'd much rather leave."

"And where would you go? The roads have iced over and no captain sails in winter unless he's mad."

Sel did not answer. He walked off. At first Ike assumed he had found a young woman to flirt with, but he instead went to the children building the snowman. They were struggling with the body. The large ball they had formed for its torso was too heavy. He lifted it with ease and placed it on the bottom they had made.

Ike shook his head. "Since when did he start hating just me?"

Soren's muttered response sounded a lot like the word "Teenagers." As they watched Sel helped shape the head, Soren asked, "Are you sleeping well?"

"Yes," Ike replied. It was not truly a lie. He would sleep through the night with no problem. It was the dreams that bothered him so.

Soren sighed. He was not happy with that answer, but he dropped the subject. "I'll have to ask around for a lord who might need our services. Our gold is running low, we cannot stay in an inn all winter if we don't find any work."

"We won't be able to stay for the rest of the week," Ike corrected. Their funds had gotten dangerously low. He watched as Sel helped to complete the snowman. It was lopsided, but the children seemed pleased and heaped their thanks onto the young man. It was the first time Ike had seen him smile in days.

"You're right," Soren admitted. He lowered his voice as Sel returned to them. "But he won't like working for some lord."

"I know," Ike said softly.

"What are you two whispering about?" The smile had vanished from Sel's face as soon as he joined them.

"Just wondering where I can start looking for someone who needs our services." Sel groaned. "We have to do something."

"Yes," he said with a kick towards a small hill of snow. "I know." The white powder exploded at his kick. Snow flew for several feet in front of him. "But I hate working for lords."

"Just until the snow stops," Ike reminded him.

Sel said nothing. Together, the trio walked around the village, watching as it awoke from its winter nap. In the spring, they had been told, the streets were lined with stalls. People sold their wares, from horseshoes to handcrafted dolls, and nearly everything you could think of in between. Children ran around the streets, and everyone watched out for each other. Everyone got along, with the only problem being the occasional band of thieves. The young men of the village, many of them wanting to play at being soldiers, had formed a makeshift militia to patrol the streets when everything was bustling.

Otherwise, they stayed at home and tended to crops, animals, the house, or younger siblings.

So the sight of the three of them was something that kept the villagers talking. Ike and Sel clearly had the look of fighters, whereas Soren drew looked wherever he went. And a mage was something the villagers had not seen in a very long time. Hardbrook was mostly a quiet little dot on a map and nothing more.

By the time they had circled back to the inn, Ike was glad to return. Though the sun shone brightly, the day was still cold and his fingers were growing numb. Once inside, he chose a seat close to the fire. Soren spoke to the innkeeper, a kindly old man named Rogart who still put coin over kindness. And Sel found his little group, three young women traveling on their own who had once begged to have him travel with them. That had led to an argument between father and son.

Deciding he did not want to see that, he got to his feet and joined Soren. "Like I was telling your friend here, Lord Abernathy is always looking for strong fighting men. He's a bit - " here the innkeeper tapped the side of his head, "kind of paranoid, too. He doesn't like leaving his keep undefended, he'll take you in, I have no doubts."

"Thank you." He would have to wake early in the morning if they wanted to go, and possibly return if Lord Abernathy had no use for them after all. But if Rogart had no doubts, then they should have no reason to return the next day.