Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem. Simple as that.
This one-shot is about Rath's thoughts and feelings about his past, somewhere within the first 10 chapters of the game.
Rath sat in front of the crackling fire. The light of the flames made Rath's eyes glow with an eerie look. He sat there with his hands supporting his chin, just gazing past the tops of the flames off into the darkness.
It was times like this that he thought of things he would never think of during the day. Deep thoughts; love, hate, sorrow, pain... Some things he wanted to ponder, others he wished he could forget.
He stared into the fire once more. Watching the jumping flames made him remember a time many years before. No, no. He didn't want to remember. Not here, not now. But the memories pushed their way into his main thought stream, and there they sat, taking over his mind. Opening the wounds he thought had once healed.
He saw himself as a little boy. He was a mere toddler then, barely able to take care of himself. Nevertheless, the soothsayer told him to fulfill the prophecy, and his father pointed to the mountains beyond. He kept hearing the words, "Go! If you are the true son of the Kutolah, then go, Rath!" He was then riding horseback through the open plains of Sacae, alone. The tears pouring down his face as he looked back towards the tribe camp, alone.
Then the image fades, and a new more painful one came. He sees them, the other tribes. They laugh at him, kick him, spit on him. But a little older now, he bites him lip and rides past them; no longer needing to hold back tears, for he has none left to weep.
He sees himself at three, five, eight, ten, twelve, fifteen, seventeen, all these times riding through the unforgiving world, always alone. Alone. The word means without anyone or anything. Just like its definition, that word meant nothing to him now. It was all he had ever known; he accepted it as part of him.
All the images of his past, many things he wanted to forget, circled in his psyche. The old hate and pain resurfacing. He was lost in this world of memories until he felt a light hand on his shoulder.
Instantly he was withdrawn from the dark world. He turned around to meet the worried faces of Lyn and Kent. He just looked at them, at the fire reflecting from their concerned eyes. "Are you okay, Rath?" Lyn asked. Rath didn't say anything as usual, just nodded.
"It's good you're okay," Kent sighed with relief, "we called out to you a couple times, but were worried when you didn't reply."
"Sorry," Rath lied, "I didn't hear you calling." Kent and Lyn both smiled at him, said goodnight, and walked off to their separate tents. Rath watched them both until they were gone. He liked them; they were good to him and fearless comrades in battle. But he always hated to have to put on his fake mask for them; letting them know everything was okay, because it wasn't. He hated to have to lie to them about how his feelings. They would never understand him, not one of them. They could never know what he'd been through, no matter what he told them.
Rath nodded to these thoughts. "Yeah," he said to himself, "they would never understand."
This one-shot is about Rath's thoughts and feelings about his past, somewhere within the first 10 chapters of the game.
Rath sat in front of the crackling fire. The light of the flames made Rath's eyes glow with an eerie look. He sat there with his hands supporting his chin, just gazing past the tops of the flames off into the darkness.
It was times like this that he thought of things he would never think of during the day. Deep thoughts; love, hate, sorrow, pain... Some things he wanted to ponder, others he wished he could forget.
He stared into the fire once more. Watching the jumping flames made him remember a time many years before. No, no. He didn't want to remember. Not here, not now. But the memories pushed their way into his main thought stream, and there they sat, taking over his mind. Opening the wounds he thought had once healed.
He saw himself as a little boy. He was a mere toddler then, barely able to take care of himself. Nevertheless, the soothsayer told him to fulfill the prophecy, and his father pointed to the mountains beyond. He kept hearing the words, "Go! If you are the true son of the Kutolah, then go, Rath!" He was then riding horseback through the open plains of Sacae, alone. The tears pouring down his face as he looked back towards the tribe camp, alone.
Then the image fades, and a new more painful one came. He sees them, the other tribes. They laugh at him, kick him, spit on him. But a little older now, he bites him lip and rides past them; no longer needing to hold back tears, for he has none left to weep.
He sees himself at three, five, eight, ten, twelve, fifteen, seventeen, all these times riding through the unforgiving world, always alone. Alone. The word means without anyone or anything. Just like its definition, that word meant nothing to him now. It was all he had ever known; he accepted it as part of him.
All the images of his past, many things he wanted to forget, circled in his psyche. The old hate and pain resurfacing. He was lost in this world of memories until he felt a light hand on his shoulder.
Instantly he was withdrawn from the dark world. He turned around to meet the worried faces of Lyn and Kent. He just looked at them, at the fire reflecting from their concerned eyes. "Are you okay, Rath?" Lyn asked. Rath didn't say anything as usual, just nodded.
"It's good you're okay," Kent sighed with relief, "we called out to you a couple times, but were worried when you didn't reply."
"Sorry," Rath lied, "I didn't hear you calling." Kent and Lyn both smiled at him, said goodnight, and walked off to their separate tents. Rath watched them both until they were gone. He liked them; they were good to him and fearless comrades in battle. But he always hated to have to put on his fake mask for them; letting them know everything was okay, because it wasn't. He hated to have to lie to them about how his feelings. They would never understand him, not one of them. They could never know what he'd been through, no matter what he told them.
Rath nodded to these thoughts. "Yeah," he said to himself, "they would never understand."