A quiet contemplation between McDohl and Hero.
Hero walked towards the young man leaning up against the railing. They were only a few years apart but Hero felt so much younger in the boy's presence. They both lead armies into battle – faced defeat and victory – and had nations chanting their names. But Hero knew that he would never be the real hero that McDohl is.
McDohl heard Hero coming towards him but made no move to register it. They stood silently together looking out across the darkened landscape. The view was wonderful – the type of thing McDohl wished he had more time to enjoy. The afternoon's snowfall was still covering the ground – a white blanket spread out before them. Hero breathed deeply – inhaling the scent of the night. McDohl looked at him from the corner of his eye.
They really were very similar – but Hero had a larger weight on his shoulders and it showed. McDohl felt bad for him, at least his best friends had stood by him throughout the war with the Scarlet Moon Empire – well except Pahn, but Pahn came back. They all came back. And he had Gremio still, and Cleo, and everyone else. Who would Hero have at the end of his war?
Hero watched McDohl stare at him. He didn't question the boy's motives when he patted him on the back. They went back to staring out at the winter wonderland before them. Hero wished he had McDohl's strength and leadership skills. He never felt like more of a naïve child then when he was faced with his first battle as leader of this army. He had thought it would be so simple to give orders and follow orders from Shu.
But then he'd lost his best friend, and his whole world seemed to shatter. He had heard the stories of McDohl's great victories and wondrous feats – which made him realize he could never be the leader that McDohl was.
"I've had my share of heartache." McDohl whispered softly. Words he barely spoke seemed to float away with the soft wind.
"Have you ever felt like you're not good enough?"
"The day Gremio died. I couldn't protect him."
Hero felt the weight of the words sink into him. He hadn't known that Gremio died, but it didn't add up to what had recently happened. He'd met Gremio, "I don't understand."
"Leknaat." With that one word it made sense. Leknaat brought Gremio back to him. 'If only Leknaat could bring Jowy back to me' Hero thought cynically.
They both knew that things would never be the same – they never were after war. And Hero withheld his desire to breakdown and cry. McDohl was a hero to him, as he was to everyone, he didn't want him to think that he was a child. Though he was – and that's how he felt. He wanted McDohl to respect him.
"It's always going to be hard." McDohl said, again with the weight of words carefully chosen.
Hero nodded, he was right. It was always going to be hard. He just wished it would get easier. McDohl subconsciously rubbed the palm of his hand. Hero knew what lay under the glove – something immense and powerful. A burden McDohl had to forever carry.
"What do I do if I don't think I can do this?" Hero choked out – McDohl looked at him, his eyes bright and deep and smart and full of so much wisdom. The wisdom of seeing things a boy should never see.
"You keep going. Because there isn't anyone else that's going to take your place."
A single tear slid down Hero's cheek. McDohl smiled sadly.
"There isn't anyone that would do as good of a job."
Hero walked towards the young man leaning up against the railing. They were only a few years apart but Hero felt so much younger in the boy's presence. They both lead armies into battle – faced defeat and victory – and had nations chanting their names. But Hero knew that he would never be the real hero that McDohl is.
McDohl heard Hero coming towards him but made no move to register it. They stood silently together looking out across the darkened landscape. The view was wonderful – the type of thing McDohl wished he had more time to enjoy. The afternoon's snowfall was still covering the ground – a white blanket spread out before them. Hero breathed deeply – inhaling the scent of the night. McDohl looked at him from the corner of his eye.
They really were very similar – but Hero had a larger weight on his shoulders and it showed. McDohl felt bad for him, at least his best friends had stood by him throughout the war with the Scarlet Moon Empire – well except Pahn, but Pahn came back. They all came back. And he had Gremio still, and Cleo, and everyone else. Who would Hero have at the end of his war?
Hero watched McDohl stare at him. He didn't question the boy's motives when he patted him on the back. They went back to staring out at the winter wonderland before them. Hero wished he had McDohl's strength and leadership skills. He never felt like more of a naïve child then when he was faced with his first battle as leader of this army. He had thought it would be so simple to give orders and follow orders from Shu.
But then he'd lost his best friend, and his whole world seemed to shatter. He had heard the stories of McDohl's great victories and wondrous feats – which made him realize he could never be the leader that McDohl was.
"I've had my share of heartache." McDohl whispered softly. Words he barely spoke seemed to float away with the soft wind.
"Have you ever felt like you're not good enough?"
"The day Gremio died. I couldn't protect him."
Hero felt the weight of the words sink into him. He hadn't known that Gremio died, but it didn't add up to what had recently happened. He'd met Gremio, "I don't understand."
"Leknaat." With that one word it made sense. Leknaat brought Gremio back to him. 'If only Leknaat could bring Jowy back to me' Hero thought cynically.
They both knew that things would never be the same – they never were after war. And Hero withheld his desire to breakdown and cry. McDohl was a hero to him, as he was to everyone, he didn't want him to think that he was a child. Though he was – and that's how he felt. He wanted McDohl to respect him.
"It's always going to be hard." McDohl said, again with the weight of words carefully chosen.
Hero nodded, he was right. It was always going to be hard. He just wished it would get easier. McDohl subconsciously rubbed the palm of his hand. Hero knew what lay under the glove – something immense and powerful. A burden McDohl had to forever carry.
"What do I do if I don't think I can do this?" Hero choked out – McDohl looked at him, his eyes bright and deep and smart and full of so much wisdom. The wisdom of seeing things a boy should never see.
"You keep going. Because there isn't anyone else that's going to take your place."
A single tear slid down Hero's cheek. McDohl smiled sadly.
"There isn't anyone that would do as good of a job."
