Summary: Ike, Soren, post part IV Endgame; they have left all that is familiar, and yet have found it anew.
Warnings: Slight IkexSoren. Spoilers for Ike and Soren's endings if they have an A-support at the end of the game.
Notes: Slightly AU and a hint of a rather odd "crossover," of sorts. Part one of three. Surprisingly, this and the next two were some of the first drabbles I wrote for this project. I can't believe I held off on posting them for so long.
Dead To The World
Ike looked around, old but still alert eyes taking in every detail of the bar around him. He hadn't expected his travels to attract Yune's attention, but he was grateful that she had helped him by taking him to this other world, a place that still needed his skills. And it also needed Soren's skills, Ike reflected, eyes shifting over to his traveling companion.
The black-haired mage looked back at him, as usual able to tell when Ike's attention shifted in his direction. Red eyes looked into blue before Ike nodded his head slightly and went back to looking around the tavern. It wasn't disconcerting to see Soren's lack of aging anymore, Ike decided. It was just something that was, and therefore unimportant. It kept the two of them moving, but Ike didn't mind that; moving was good, it kept old memories of Tellius from surfacing.
Although, memories of Tellius easily surfaced in this world of familiar-unfamiliar faces, people whom he had known in Tellius only with different relationships, personalities, and skills. It was unsettling, but Yune had warned him and Soren that this would happen, so he was prepared for it.
Ike nodded politely to the waitress, an orange-haired woman with striking violet eyes, when she took his and Soren's dishes away. The woman ignored his nod, but Ike wasn't surprised; she looked enough like Lethe that he had almost expected her reaction. Rising, he made his way to the exit, sensing Soren following him.
The two travelers made their way along the road, continuing on their path to explore—and fight bandits. A definite plus in this world was that bandits were still willing to fight him, whereas back in Tellius he had had difficulties with such things after killing Ashera. "Let's find some bandits, Soren," the sixty-two-year-old man announced, grinning like a child at the first snowfall. "I really want to fight some bandits."
The older man, despite his young—and good—looks, sighed, shaking his head. "You're impossible, Ike," he mused, a hint of a smile brushing his lips.
"Smile bigger, Soren," Ike chided his long-time companion. "That way, we'll catch more bandits."
"What are they, flies?" the dark-clothed mage asked, an eyebrow rising in disbelief that he knew he shouldn't be feeling; it was Ike that he was talking with, after all.
"Of course," the sword-wielder replied, smirking. "After all, how else would there be so many in this world?"
Soren chuckled at that as the pair walked side-by-side down the road, both perfectly aware of the bandits that had begun stalking them.
Many years ago now, a great warrior named Ike lived in Crimea. He was an ordinary mercenary who rose up to save first his kingdom, then later the world. After he defeated the Goddess Ashera in combat, he disappeared, never to be seen again. By now, he is believed by all the world to be dead, for otherwise he surely would have returned to see the peace that he wrought…