This has been plaguing my mind for weeks. It's not a comedy. Credit to Nintendo. There are MANY spoilers in this fic. I highly suggest you read Ike and Soren's supports before you read this fic.
"Why me? The world isn't fair!" The woman heavily grieved. She wasn't yet middle-aged, but her facial features suggested she was well passed 50. The woman lived in a small cottage near the edge of some woods. The woman and the cottage she lived in were miles from civilization, and she had only a cow and a handful of chickens for company.
At least, that's what she believed. The woman sighed again, then reached down into the cradle in front of her. What she raised out of this cradle horrified her every time she saw it. Her stomach would churn, her lips would curl, and her eyes would never show anything more than complete and utter discord. It was out of this cradle she did not raise a beorc, nor a laguz; it was a branded child. A child born of both beorc and laguz blood. A bad omen and foul brood to anyone and everything. According to every culture in Tellius, this child had no right to be alive.
"Oh sister… why did this happen to you? Why did that beast do this to you? Why!" The woman grit her teeth and gripped thechild tightly. The toddler immediately started crying and the woman screeched, tossing the child back into the cradle before leaping backwards. The toddler landed on the side of the cradle and fell to the ground, bawling. This only made the woman angry. Furious, she kicked the cradle and screamed, "STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU… YOU HORRID CHILD!" before she bolted out of the room and slammed the door shut, leaving the frightened and injured child all alone.
It was well passed midnight but Soren was still awake. He was standing by the window, his arms folded across his chestwith a grim look upon his face. Slowly he turned his gaze to Ike, and then to Ike's younger sister, Mist. Both of them were sleeping peacefully, and if it weren't for the war, they wouldn't have a single care in the world.
Of course, why should they? They weren't cursed. They had parents. People loved them, cared for them. People did not care what they were or where they came from. No body looked at them with disgust. That is, until they had arrived in Gallia.
Soren picked up the dwindling candle sitting on the desk and blew out the flame before he made his way back to bed. Still, it seemed even sleep wanted nothing to do with him tonight, so he lay there, starring at the rafters above. He did well when he wanted to suppress a memory, but he was no match for his mind when he was asleep.
He tried to convince himself before that even if Ike found out he was one of the branded he wouldn't care, but Soren couldn't be too sure. He was so ashamed he couldn't even tell his best friend what he was out of fear that he might turn on him like everyone else has, but it wasn't Soren's fault he couldn't trust anybody.
Maybe that's why Soren was always so bitter. "Emotionally distant and insensitive." He had heard Boyd squawk to Oscar one day. The less Boyd knows, the better off both he and I are. Soren thought as he slowly closed his eyes. Boyd has always jumped to conclusions rather quickly. Besides… I may appear emotionally distant or insensitive to him and everyone else... but the reason is the only person I can honestly trust in this world is myself.
He didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't too entirely sure about that, either. Soren closed his eyes one more time, and sleep finally decided to accept him.