Some years before a white rose finds two weeds among the rubble.
His Majesty desired to train, and thusly was striding into the training area, sword in hand, when he came upon his youngest son. The boy was just shy of four and a half, little wooden blade in hand, parrying, slicing with no expertise.
"Riku."
The boy whipped around at the sound of his name, looking guilty before any accusation. "Father! – Your Majessie'," he stuttered through the formalities shoddily, bowing his head.
The king glanced around the practice yard, seeing little that would concern him, of all people. "You may forego the title, Riku. No one is here."
A shy smile overcame the child before he could help it, his hands still remaining behind his back. "Thank you Father."
"What do you have there?"
Pouting, the wooden practice sword was procured hesitantly, offered palm up by tiny hands as if an altar. Young Riku's eyes contained blatant worry and a hint of fear. His father's ferocity in battle was legendary, but the boy was too young yet to differentiate that between anger and battle duty.
Matching sea-green eyes raked over the scarred practice blade, then the boy's before a soft smiled played about the king's lips. "You want to become a swordsmen?"
Eagerness overcame the former emotions as only a youngster could. "Yessir! 'Daj let me borrow this, an' he told me to go hunt monsters in tha barn- but zere's no monsters, only cats I checked all over an'-an', am I in trouble?" the excitement ebbed as the worry crept back.
Sephiroth looked over his youngest son. Kidaj had most likely given the practice blade to the four year old knowing it might get him in trouble. His brothers, all three, hadn't begun training until their seventh years. Defense was the key, not the killing. All the elder princes excelled at combat, and drumming into their heads that war was bloody and full of bitter, unneeded death rather than glory had been a constant challenge. It did not help that their own father had won his own throne through a previous war.
He could tell, even in so young a boy, that this child of his did not contain the bloodlust that so thrilled his brothers. "Tell me why you fight, Riku. Why do you want to hold a sword?"
"So's I can fight monsters! They're real scary! Kairi dunn like'em. She cries a bunch."
Kairi. His wife's niece. A pretty girl, little older than a toddler. Riku was closest to her in age, and was resigned to be her playmate when his wife's family came to visit. Her mother's illness kept them in the capital more and more often. "You want to protect Kairi?"
The young prince frowned, lip puckering out slightly. His father smirked slightly, remembering just how young he was. "Whats 'pro-tekk?'"
How to simplify watching over a country, a family, a people, all the while watching for dangers from within a kingdom as well as without? The king considered all of this, then again on Riku's reason.
"Protect means to keep the bad things away. It means you want to keep people safe. But not just Kairi. If she is important, then so must be everyone. All of Radiant Garden is yours and mine to protect, Riku. If you want to try to become a swordsman, then you must try to protect them all. Will you try?" Sephiroth asked, kneeling down to look into his son's eyes.
His child's steady gaze made him feel a shot of pride. Riku would not only learn to fight for himself, but also for all those he might one day rule. "Yes, father. I fink-I mean," he struggled, stubborn frown now instead of a confused one. "I think so, yes."
The next day would see a proper swordsman's education begun for the youngest prince of Radiant Garden.