A/N: Okay! Well, this is my first Fire Emblem story (actually, truth be told the first one I've decided to show other human beings) so hopefully I do the characters justice. Oddly enough, Path of Radiance happens to be my least favorite of the Fire Emblem series (my favorite being FE7) and here I am doing a fic on it! Go figure… so anyway, this is a Soren-centered story if you couldn't already tell, and so it will have spoilers for his character. If you haven't finished everything in the game, or you don't want to read about Soren, then don't read it please. One of the reasons I'm writing this is because I'm a bit tired of seeing so many stories with Soren paired with Ike. I'm not appalled by the pairing or anything, I just think that there are too many stories of them on here. I also felt that poor, angsty Soren needs to find a girl to share his life with, so I decided to give him one in this. Well, enough of my pointless rambling, and so here we go!
A Grain in the Sand
Chapter 1 - Leaving Home -There it was again; the familiar sound, the sound that came from the sky, the sound that was the only thing in this world to truly comfort him. It was soft at times and thunderous at other times. There were few things in this world that were constant and assured to him, and this was one of them. Pattering lightly on the roof of his tent, it seemed to be dancing. He often wished that he could live in a place where the sound never ceased, where he could be alone with the only thing he truly loved. Nothing in his life had ever really brought him happiness. In fact, happiness was something that evaded his grasp as if he were quarantined from it. When he had been a child, he had wondered why he was deserving of such a life, but it was plain to see now. He was tainted, filthy, someone who could never belong anywhere. These were, of course, just words and concepts, but they were true. Wherever he went in his miserable life, he never did fit in anywhere. No one had wanted him when he was a child; they had all thought him a curse, a burden. Even his own mother had been so reviled by him that she had abandoned him to die. That seemed ridiculous, but it was true—and not only in the way they had thought. He was a curse, a curse to himself. It was amazing how one could hate oneself so much, and yet still press onward, acting as if nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong. There was always the rain though… and this was the only thing that brought him comfort.
"Soren," called a voice from behind the large, wooden door to his room. It was obvious who it was, and Soren's eyes flickered over to the door.
His thoughts interrupted as usual, he sighed and stood up from the wooden stool he had been perched upon. With his hand he pushed back a few stray ebony colored bangs, and then lumbered up to the door.
The room was quite dark; Soren had preferred it this way because he knew that it was late and that he should try to get some sleep. He hadn't though, and had instead ended up listening to the blessed sound of the rain that had begun to fall outside. As he placed his hand on the latch to open the door, he geared himself up for the conversation he knew was about to come. He opened the door slowly, and motioned with his hand for whoever was standing in wait to come in.
In the hall that was surprisingly well lit by large torches that stood on cast-iron stands, stood a man. It was hard to see the man's face with the shadow cast on it from the torches, but Soren knew who it was so it didn't really matter. The messy grass-colored hair and purple swordsman's clothing gave his identity away anyway, regardless of whether or not his face was distinguishable. His long and quite dangerous blade was tied tightly to his side, it's red scabbard lit up by the dancing fire of the torches. The man inclined his head briefly before stepping into the room, and Soren made a small sigh.
"What is it?" he inquired as he closed the door softly, not wanting anyone to wake up from his or her slumber and get curious about what the two were discussing. His crimson eyes followed Stefan's movements as the young man walked over to the window of the room and glanced out of it.
"So you will come? To the colony?" Stefan asked, wanting to get right to the point. He looked at Soren with anticipation, as if he were waiting to be told that he had just won a prize of some kind.
This question gave Soren mixed feelings. He didn't want to go to that filthy place. He knew he would belong nowhere; that he would never find anyone to truly understand him. What did those people of the desert know anyway? So he and they were the same, but did they know him for him? He couldn't see what he could possibly gain from that place other than a rather large headache and more sleepless nights. This place wasn't all hugs and love, but at the very least, Ike was here. His mind conjured up a picture of the blue-haired mercenary, his blunt and confident manner appeasing to even the worst of attitudes. Ike was the only one he would consider a friend, and so why should he leave?
However… there was this odd curiosity brewing in the other side of his young mind, something that forced him to wonder if he could belong somewhere. If he ever had a chance to belong, it would be in that place. Such a thing though… would not be easy. He hated himself and his 'kind', and he was repulsed by the thought of being surrounded by other abominations, constantly reminding him of the fact that he was the product of an unholy union. He wouldn't have agreed to travel to this place if it weren't for the one person he cared about. Ike had told him a week ago that the colony, Grann Desert, was a place that Soren should go to. Stefan had been the one to bring it up originally to Soren, telling him that if he ever wanted to visit or live there, the invitation was open. Ike had forced Soren to tell him about Stefan's offer one night, and so it led to a rather heated discussion between the two. He could remember it from a week ago as if it were yesterday.
"You should go there then at least to visit. I think it would be wise to make some connections so that when you have to go there some--," Ike had said in his blunt manner, getting to the point of all this.
"No! I don't want to live there Ike! Can't you see that I think that such a place is horrible, a stain on the landscape that's ugly and disgusting!" Soren said back to his friend, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Ike then began to look at him seriously, a grave expression crossing his features, "Soren, you know I can't protect you always. You know that Stefan's right and that someday you will have to leave my side. You know I really do appreciate and depend on you, and you know you're my best friend, but I don't want you to get hurt from some idiot that can't understand that you're no different than me or anyone else."
"Ike you don't…," Soren began to protest, but was oddly touched by his friend's thoughtfulness, and so he trailed off into a confused silence.
"No, listen to me Soren, you not only need to do this for the future, but for yourself too. You've been extra moody lately, which has been effecting your job performance, and I think you really need to sort some things out in your head," the young man said before him, folding his arms, "I know how you feel about all of this—I get it; but I'm ordering you to do this for your own good. You told me yourself that you were curious about Grann Desert. Now's your chance."
Those were his words, if Soren's memory served him right. Soren had hated the thought, but Ike was relentless on pushing the idea into his head. So finally Soren agreed to it, and arrangements were made so that he would be leaving with Stefan in a day to journey to this colony. Soren just kept on telling himself that even if it ended up horrible, he would always have here to come back to for now. Ike would not turn him away; Ike was the only one who accepted him for who he was. If such a problem should arise about what he was, he would make a decision about where to go and what to do then...
"Yes, I'm afraid I will be joining… you," Soren replied, feeling sick to his stomach at his own words. His pale complexion seemed to grow even paler as he had spoken them. Stefan made a small grunt that was somewhere between a snort and a chuckle, and Soren's crimson eyes flashed up to see the young man's face smiling. "What?"
"I knew you'd want to see it, it is only natural. Come, we're leaving now," Stefan said, moving quickly from his position by the window and striding across the room to the door. He placed his hand on the latch and looked back at Soren.
Now? Right this minute? This couldn't be, Stefan had said yesterday that he would be leaving in a day's time. Why the sudden change? Soren's forehead wrinkled in confusion, the odd, wispy, red mark of his etched in the middle of it wrinkling along with the skin. "Forgive me, but I though you weren't leaving for another day?" he said curtly, though his voice was slightly annoyed sounding.
Stefan turned around, and brushed some bangs away from his face before answering. "We're not normal Soren. We stand out to those who look for us, and so I like to leave when we're not expected to be leaving. Castles may be built of walls, but castles also have servants who would love to surrender a secret for a pocketful of gold," he said quickly, his eyes meeting with Soren's, "Besides, would you like to deal with the many questions your companions will be throwing at you should we leave in the daytime?"
"Fine," Soren said in reply, not liking the fact that he had been talked to as if her were a child. He knew that there were people in the castle that listened to conversations and knew secrets. He was, after all, a fairly good tactician; he didn't need this abomination telling him that. It truly didn't matter though. Leaving tonight or ten days from now, he would still be miserable the whole way, and certainly not happily looking forward to reaching their forsaken destination. He reached for things to take with him, mostly a small pile of books that he found useful in tight situations and extra clothes that all were either violet or some shade of black. Those were the only colors he wore and appreciated. He double-checked the contents of the bag he was taking with him, making sure that he had brought along enough spell books to protect himself with. Being able to use magic made a person quite powerful offensively, but defensively magic users were usually quite weak. It was essential that he brought everything he could to help him.
"Ike knows about us leaving though, I had to tell him so that he wouldn't worry that we had been killed or some nonsense," Stefan said thoughtfully, sensing that Soren would want to say goodbye to his only real friend, "He's outside getting two horses ready for us. He also cleared our path of castle guards."
"I see," Soren said suddenly, feeling a little better about leaving now. At least he would get to say goodbye to Ike. He was the only one he would care to say farewell to anyway, so he had no complaints about that. He nodded when he was ready and Stefan opened the door using the old latch and, with a quick glance down the corridor, motioned for Soren to follow.
The two young men walked carefully down the large stone corridor, its many tapestries and drapes looming above them, casting eerie shadows on the floor. The surroundings were quiet enough to hear a beast's tail swish through the air, and so Soren found himself listening to the rain again. It was pattering lighter now and was making small and softer noises than before. Soren frowned; his stomach still felt as though something had throttled it, a feeling that he suspected would only grow as this trip went on.
When they reached a side-door to exit the castle, Stefan carefully opened that as well, looking around and checking to make sure that no one had seen them. Soren found all of this a little unnecessary; did Stefan honestly think that people wanted to be near them if they knew what they were? Weren't all beorc like that pathetic woman that raised him, too frightened and repulsed to want anything to do with him?
Stefan pressed onward, going out onto the grounds of the castle; a small dirt path leading them towards what could only be the horse stables. The dirt path was not very dry though, and had essentially turned into a mud path from all of the rain. Soren exhaled his breath in a slight groan as he noticed his sandals and feet getting quite dirty from the mud splashing as he ran behind Stefan. Was this how all of the Branded lived, dirty and soaking from skulking around in to travel under the cloak of darkness?
A voice greeted them, and Soren looked up to see his friend Ike standing before them, holding two pairs of reigns. "Ah! I see you managed to drag Soren out of his room," Ike said with a slight grin, "I would have gotten you myself, Soren, but I was the one with the key to the horses." His green and blue clothing looked quite wet, as did his normally spiky blue hair that was now lying quite flat on his head. It was still managing to be held back a bit by his green headband.
"You could have given the key to Stefan," Soren said bitterly, having much preferred to be 'dragged' out of his room by a friend than an acquaintance.
Ike just shook his head and handed Soren one of the two reigns he was holding. "Soren, as usual, you're sharper than me," he admitted, not having thought of that, "Look, I really do think this is something you need to do, whether you see that way or not. You have your orders, now it's time to obey your commander and get going on them." He paused, waiting for Soren to acknowledge this command of his.
Soren nodded. Though he hated doing it, he would do it for Ike.
"I don't want to hear any protesting about how the place will fall apart without you, either. Titania and I can handle it for a short time. The war is over so we won't be doing much in the way of fighting. You know I would love to go with you Soren… but I have other obligations to Elincia right now," Ike said, looking a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. Soren nodded silently again, knowing but not fully understanding what Ike had meant. He and Elincia had gotten very close over the course of the war, and now that it was over, they had only gotten closer. It was one of the many growing relationships of the people Soren knew. Soren himself had hardly ever thought about love; that complicated, confusing emotion that he had never felt before in his life. Perhaps how he felt about Ike was something like love… but certainly nowhere near the intensity or kind of love that Ike probably felt toward Queen Elincia. Such a thing was like a foreign concept to Soren. Friendship was the most he had ever felt, and he wasn't even sure that what he felt towards Ike was friendship. After all, who could ever properly describe a feeling?
Ike shifted his stance, turning to Stefan and handing the swordmaster the other reigns that had had been holding. "Take care of yourselves, and watch over Soren for me. I won't be there to make sure he eats or sleeps, so you've my permission to bother him as much as he needs it," Ike said with a slight smile, his eyes darting to see an appalled expression on his friend's face.
"What! I don't need some--!" Soren began to protest, but Stefan cut him off with a rather loud way of clearing his throat.
"It shall be done commander," Stefan replied, "Let's head out Soren."
Slightly embarrassed, sick, and angry, Soren nodded silently again, and began to walk up to his prepared horse. It was a small and limber brown mare; one that Soren often used himself when Ike's mercenaries were on the move. Only someone that cared about him as much as Ike would take the time to make sure that Soren got that particular horse again for his journey. Soren felt a sudden feeling of gratitude and that odd emotion that could only be friendship cut through how he had been feeling. He looked back at Ike after mounting himself onto the horse, careful to make sure that none of his black robes caught on the horse's accessories.
"Ike… I," he began, but realized he had no idea what to say. He rarely felt sentimental, and so he was ill prepared for this moment.
"Aye, I know. Now get out of here before morning comes, will you?" Ike said warmly, patting Soren's horse a couple times for good luck. Stefan mumbled that it was time to go, and so Soren pulled on the reigns, forcing his horse away from Ike and the castle.
He may have been riding alongside Stefan in the cold and wet weather, but his heart was still back there with Ike, sitting in his room quietly as he listened to the sound of the rain.