Hello there! This will be my first story to be posted on the FanFiction site. I just had to get this out there before I eventually scare myself out of writing anything. I hope this story will pan out to be satisfactory for both you the reader, and me the author. Hopefully you enjoy it!


There was no one else on the road. No other carriage, no other wagon, no other person for miles out. At least, nothing from what the Boy could see. He saw lots of people in the beginning, but now it seemed like no one traveled this way. The only noise he could hear came from his own solitary vehicle.

Clip Clop Clip Clop…

Perusing past the last stretch of wheat fields, he counts in tandem with the steps of the dutiful horse pulling along his wooden wagon. Its monotonous motions had been the only source of noise to keep the Boy company for a while now.

Up to this point, he journeyed for what seemed like hours. It was in the early morning when the trip began, where the sun had barely reached the tip of the horizon. Now he couldn't even tell what time it was. The accumulating clouds overhead made sure of that. Nonetheless, the Boy continues to count over the constant rumbling of the wagon. Counting kept him grounded. And gave him something to do.

'Ten thousand ninety one, ten thousand ninety two…'

The Boy's eyes hide behind his uniquely blue-ish teal hair. Observing the sky, he blinks as if in confirmation of the incoming rain in the distance. Rain was a most unpleasant occasion for him. Rain meant that the horse's uniform steps along steady ground would be replaced by heavy trudges in sloppy mud. It meant dealing with his wet, cold clothes sticking to his skin.

It also meant a dark, churning sea of gray clouds above that always seemed to stir something deep within the Boy. A foreign feeling, unknown. He had tried and failed to make sense of this feeling numerous times before it disappeared just as quickly as it arrived.

Tearing his view away from the turbulent clouds amassing in the sky, the Boy looks to find himself no longer traveling among the vast plains and fields, but instead surrounded by towering pine trees and large mountains. The wind breezes past the trees, causing the whole forest to sway side to side as if it was alive.

A shiver escapes the Boy's body, prompting him to huddle even deeper within his thin blanket. Seeing as the weather would impede his number routine, he stops counting. Resigning himself to the whims of the storm, the Boy listens to the modest beginning of rain and its soft pitter-patter against the large overhead cloth the wagon came equipped with. All he could do now was wait.


A little time passes, and the light rain still subsists. An occasional sniffle is heard, eliciting a response from the Boy in the back. He glances toward the man leading the wagon. Brawny shoulders, large back, and well-defined muscles lay behind a thin tunic, an easy victim to the elements. The man looks unbothered despite this, his posture stiff and his eyes ever forward.

Looking between the man and the heavy orange coat which lay crumpled up in the corner, the Boy gets up and drapes it around the man who looks at him in mild surprise. His surprise quickly melts down into a smile.

"Thanks, kid".

The boy nods, and lumbers back to his original spot.

"Gotta start taking care of myself, or this kid'll keep taking care of me…".

"Jeralt!".

A gravelly voice, whose bark-like shout pierces through the rain, is enough for Jeralt to abruptly stop the wagon.

The young Boy's ears perk up. He hears the eventual splash, and the heavy trudges along the wet, muddy ground heading towards the back of the wagon. Casting aside his thin blanket, he pulls over the hood of his own, signature black cloak, and tightens the scabbard of his sword on his belt. A little inscription upon the leather reads "Byleth".

The Boy looks up to find his father's expectant face.

"C'mon, kid. Time to go".


Byleth lands as best as he can on his feet, allowing only a slight squelch to be heard on the muddy terrain. Sparing no time, he quietly trails behind Jeralt to the man who awaits them.

As they draw closer, Byleth could sense a sort of familiarity with the other man. His physical traits; broad shoulders, intimidating height, and musculature like that of an experienced warrior, reminds him much of his own father. The man's stern gaze briefly meets with Byleth's, before his father steps forward.

"Greil".

"Jeralt".

The adults nod to each other. Byleth goes to work releasing the restraints on the horse, taking hold of the lead.

"Over here".

The man leads them towards a log cabin nestled amongst the trees just off the main road. The wind and rain had started to become more violent in nature now, prompting Byleth to quicken his pace to match the large strides of the two older men.

The log cabin, now a shining safehouse, emanated light from a single glass window. There, a small movement caught Byleth's attention. A certain pair of cerulean eyes clash with dull blue before it ducks out of sight.

After securing the horse to a makeshift cover that resided off to the side of the cabin, he heads to the entrance.

Nearing the front door, it swings open to reveal a young boy, whose hands held multiple towels. The very same cerulean eyes lock onto Byleth again, before taking note of his sword.

Upon entry, Byleth and his father accept a towel, pulling their hoods down to dry their damp hair while the boy scuttles off to another room. Rubbing his hair down furiously, Byleth finishes drying up before taking a quick look around.

From what he can see, the room is a relatively small space; a humble brick fireplace is situated along the back wall, with a wooden square table and two well-worn chairs tucked away in a corner to his left. A door, closed shut on his right, is where he assumes the other boy escaped to.

Byleth ventures further into the room with a few, tentative steps. The cabin is invitingly warm, with an ever-present smell of pine lingering in the air. The loose thought of a certain village he and his father usually rested at before accepting more commissions comes to mind. To Byleth, this house with its simple furnishings, swaying fire, and pine smell… It's comforting, to say the least.

A large hand suddenly rests on his head and rustles his hair a bit.

"Make yourself comfortable, kid". The voice drops an octave lower. "This might take a bit".

Byleth nods in response, aware of the slight apprehension in his father's voice. "Adult business", his father said in haste before their departure that morning.

With that, Jeralt heads towards the table where the other man now awaits. Byleth, seeing nothing for him to do, finds a spot next to the fire after he finished taking off his muddied boots and sword belt.

The adults converse quietly. Byleth sits in front of the fire which crackles and hisses as it dances in front of him, urging him to do something. Anything. Byleth considers starting up another count in his head, and almost starts when he spots the door to his side creak open. The boy with cerulean eyes emerges, holding an object wrapped in cloth. Courageously, he makes his way over to Byleth and kneels down beside him.

"You're a swordsman too?".

Now sitting clearly right next to him, Byleth takes this chance to study the boy a bit more, noting the messy deep blue hair that resembles his own.

"My father's a swordsman too. He fights monsters and bad guys and stuff. He goes around protecting nearby villages, so a lot of people depend on him".

It seems Byleth's staring didn't faze the boy in the slightest. Usually, village children shied away from him at the slightest bit of eye contact, even adults as well. This other boy intrigued him.

Byleth notices the boy lift up the wrapped object, promptly unfolding it. After doing so, a large, wooden stick, whittled down the sides and sanded to a smooth sheen, is revealed.

"…"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, right? Father uses this to train me. Mine's still in my room, but I wanted to show you his. He doesn't let me bear his sword, but it's almost as big as this".

The stick is large and worn, with a few nicks and scratches. It looks heavy.

The boy sets the stick down so that he can raise his biceps as if they were any indication to his supposed training.

"One day, I'll be as strong as him, I just know it!". A willful grin splits his face, before weakening into a small smile.

"I just haven't seen any improvement at all though", he said, looking wistful as he stared at his small arms.

"…"

"Hey, don't doubt me, it takes time!".

He sighs, and lets his arms drop down.

"That's what father tells me anyway".

A few moments pass, and then he turns to Byleth and points at his sword which lay sheathed next to him.

"Um, is it alright if you show me your sword?".

He brought the stick up for Byleth to see.

"I showed you this, it'll be a fair trade".

Byleth catches hold of the other boy's anticipating stare, an intense blue looking at him. Calculating in his head, and finding no harm in what the other boy asked, Byleth raises his sword to reveal only part of the blade near the hilt.

A look of admiration gleamed in those cerulean eyes. The flickering fire reflected off the silver sword, causing it to shine from the hilt. The other boy studies it in fascination, before looking back at the fireplace.

Then the other boy stands up, taking his father's training stick with him to disappear back through the other door.

Assuming Show-and-Not-Tell time was officially over, Byleth felt a twinge of another unknown feeling. Was the boy done speaking to him? Tired from his unintentional apathy, perhaps? He shrugs it off and focuses instead on something else. Perhaps, he tells himself, resuming his most exciting counting ritual would be ideal.

Until a hand and a smile appear in front of his face.

"Should'a said this in the beginning, but my name's Ike. What's yours?".


Whew. Got that off my chest. Thank you so much for taking time to read this. I definitely intend to continue this story, because I'm kinda excited myself to see how this turns out. How did I do? I would love any feedback and constructive criticism, and will try to improve. Again, thank you for reading!