A/N: Part one of two. AR/AU.

Soren wasn't sure what his master was doing, but when he heard 'silent' and 'still' then he knew what he was supposed to be doing. Stay silent and stay still. That, and keeping to himself and not relying on another, was how Soren survived. Finally his master let out a cry, and looked at Soren like one would an interesting experiment. He motioned for Soren to step forward, and the young boy walked forward, trying to look passive. He couldn't understand everything that was said, but when a book was shoved into his hands he understood enough.

"Prepare that spell! To the letter!" His master cried out. It was one of the few sentences Soren knew by heart. He heard it enough. His master left with a quick turn, his robes slashing into Soren. The boy knew better then to cry out, or risk dropping the book to protect his face. It only stung for a little, after all.

Soren walked into the middle of the study, the wooden floor clean enough to eat off of. Soren would know; he had done so on several occasions. The study was both Soren's heaven and hell. His master would give him enough knowledge to study for decades, but he would also beat Soren if he failed to do something properly or quick enough. The walls were full of books, shoved to one side to provide enough room to cast most spells that required pentacles.

Pentacles were Soren's least favorite thing to prepare. He would spend hours drawing out the intricate patterns, and often his master would find something wrong with it anyway. Soren sighed as he regarded his newest spell to preform, for he knew his master did little but command him now. The chant seemed simple enough, but the pentacle... It was easily the most complicated that Soren had ever seen in his life. The main circle was entwined with at least ten others, and small triangles and diamonds interlocked inside every circle, big or small.

If Soren had been paying attention, or looking at something besides the minute details, he would have noticed the entire shape was like a large heart, diamonds and triangles creating a long rope around the entire thing.

But Soren, even at that point in his life, knew that looking at the big picture would only bring a deep sense of foreboding and dread.

Because there was nothing to look forward too; no hope, no future for him, besides an eternity of casting spells for his master.

Soren looked over his spell one last time, his master's gaze piercing into him like a million sharp blades. He had spent the last four hours copying down the pentacle, and he was worried he had done something wrong. But his master had made it very clear that Soren was not getting out of this spell; the boy would preform the spell if it was the last thing he did. Soren forced back a gulp as he realized he was missing three circles, which were mere lines on the floor. He wanted to say something, but he realized he didn't know how to.

"Hurry up, whelp!" His master cawed, and Soren mentally flinched. It was pointless to argue. He would have to hope (did he even know what that word meant?) that the circles were nothing important. Soren stepped past the diamonds he had drawn so carefully, past the triangles that were perfectly drawn with an expert's hand.

Soren lifted his arms, and then he started to recite the spell. His master watched, eyes eagerly looking on like a blind man who was seeing for the first time. Soren carefully recited the words, every syllable rolling off his tongue and lighting up the pentacle, the spell starting to take affect.

He had no time to worry about the pentacle. No time to think about what could happen if something went wrong. He could just recite his spell, cast it like he had done with hundreds of other spells without fault. Something would go wrong, or something would go right. His fate, he had long since realized, was far out of his control.

There was a sudden blast of green light, that shot up into the sky (through the ceiling, as if it were not there) and turned into a beautiful bird that spread its wings. Soren wasn't sure how he was seeing it, but he could, like it was right in front of him. It let out a silent caw and a blue flame rushed out of its beak and engulfed it, encircling it until both the bird and the blue flames disappeared into the nighttime sky. Soren found himself on his knees, sweat dripping from his brow.

'What was that?' Soren thought to himself. His master ran up, eyes wild with excitement and another emotion... Soren wasn't paying enough attention to notice.

"Did it work? What did you see?" Soren knew he wasn't actually supposed to say anything back, and so he didn't even try to form words. His master ran past Soren, obviously caring little that his charge was exhausted from the spell, and picked up something from his desk. A mirror, Soren noticed. His master muttered something and he waited for a tense few seconds.

Then his master swore loudly and threw the mirror at Soren. It landed on the boy's back, and Soren let out a yelp of pain. His master swore more, and louder, before kicking the fallen boy.

"You useless boy! You must have done something wrong... Yes, that is it... The spell is fine, it is you that cannot preform your intended duty!" Soren was numb to the words, being used to the abuse. He found himself looking around the room, and his eyes fell onto an open book, which had fallen sometime during his master's ravings.

The spell book, Soren realized slowly. Maybe he could read the title, decipher the words which he could say but not understand. Soren frowned, as even his muddled brain realized that it was beyond him.

And so Soren found himself passed out, with not a single clue on what the spell had done.

Soren wasn't sure, at this point, when he first noticed the strange red ropes that surrounded him all the time. Was it at night, falling asleep, when he first saw them stretch across the land outside of his room? Or the next morning, when his master kicked him out for real, with only bread and his clothes? Either way, it did not matter to the cynical young boy. Though he was a five (or six) years of age, he knew one thing about the world.

It was a cruel, cruel place. It had no room for those who could not work, those who could not support themselves. And so Soren pushed himself to stay alive, no matter what it took. He knew he'd need something besides bread to eat, if he wanted to live. So he made plans. Stealing was not out of the question.

And wherever he went, those bloody red ropes followed him. Maybe 'rope' was too rough a term. They were more like silk ribbons, trailing around the ground and sometimes in the sky. He had since learned that he could walk through them, and that no one else saw them. He kept his visions to himself. He wasn't sure if they were a product of magic or his own mind. He didn't care.

He just wanted them to go away. They did not affect him, certainly. But they irked him; they reminded him of his master, and with that came painful memories. Memories best left hidden, far away from his current life. Which was no basket of roses, but at least he was his own person. He was free, whatever that meant.

No, he wanted the ropes (strings, lines, threads, whatever) to go away. Mostly because of one particular rope that would never leave him. And it was tied to his ankle. It didn't affect his running, never tripped him up. It was like all the other threads; it passed through him and whatever else it touched. He could never pick it up (and he had tried before).

"Penny for the poor?" Walking around, Soren was in one of the towns with very few strings. Only a few crossed his path, besides his own. The beggar earned nothing from Soren, except a glare. Soren was younger then the man, and he was surviving by his own means. Begging was below Soren; besides it earned little except contempt. Suddenly, said beggar grabbed Soren's long robes in a tight grip. Soren fought back panic.

Soren yelped and wanted to shout. Shout anything, shout obscenities. But he had only been taught how to shout spells, and he lacked a tome to cast them with. But his yelp (high-pitched and weak) was enough to startle the man into loosening his grip. Soren pulled his robe back.

"You have The Sight! You can see them; you can see the strings of fate!" Soren ignored the small part of him that wanted to listen to the man, and glared daggers. The man was obviously insane, and needed to be locked up. It was little wonder he was a beggar. "You can see the strings!" Soren bit his tongue, part of him wanting to form a question, part of him wanting to form a spell.

But the man seemed to realize this, because he walked back a few feet before regarding Soren with crazy, wild eyes. They were bloodshot and broken, the pupils jagged like they had been broken. Soren, though he chased the thought out milliseconds later, wondered if he would someday look like that man. He hoped not.

"The strings! Those that connect the fated together! Those fated to fall in love!" Now another inhabitant of the small, dirty town, walked over. The man placed a rough hand on Soren's shoulder, shaking his head at the beggar.

"Leave the boy alone, beggar." The man hissed, aiming a sharp kick at the beggar. The beggar walked away with a scowl, and Soren soon found himself being led into what appeared to be a run-down inn of some sort.

The room was musky, dirty, and cluttered. At the same time, all Soren could really see were boxes and tables and chairs. There was a mostly empty bar, where a few men were talking with drinks, but not really drinking. It appeared Soren's first impressions of the town were correct; the town was mostly a dump, where people lived when they couldn't live anywhere else.

"Sorry you had to see that, son." The man said, sitting Soren down in a chair. It was rough wood, very low quality, but Soren had been walking so much he didn't mind. Soren didn't say anything, or even nod. "I suppose you're wondering what that was all about." The man continued, taking Soren's silence as shock, rather then mistrust.

Now Soren was interested. He nodded and sat up a little straighter (though his posture was already impeccable). The man let out a soft chuckle, but Soren didn't think it was something to be worried about. It was more like the kind of chuckle you would give a young child who just asked a silly question. Soren forced down his slight annoyance. He looked young, and he was young, but he was hardly any regular child.

"He's been like that for years. Always going off about magical red strings that connect people together, if you'll believe that." The man laughed again, not noticing Soren's thoughts twisting one way and another.

Red strings connecting people together? It was true he had seen strings tied to people, but he had never seen two people connected together. Only one person. Never two. Of course he had seen the strings winding around towns, following roads and disappearing into the horizon. Maybe the beggar was wrong. Maybe Soren didn't have 'The Sight', whatever that was.

"You look sick, son. You need any help?" The man asked. Soren shook his head and got out of the chair, realizing that his feet didn't touch the ground while he sat. The man stood as well, looking hesitant. "Are you certain? You're young, and this is no place to be wandering..." Soren shook his head and walked out of the inn, not looking back.

He didn't need anyone's help, and he refused to believe that he was 'magically connected' with another person.

Ike had asked pretty much everyone he could. He asked Oscar, who he figured knew everything about anything. But Oscar had just given him a puzzled look and pointed him in Shinon's direction (why Shinon, Ike wasn't sure). Shinon had been drunk, as per usual, and Gatrie had rushed Ike out of Shinon's room without even listening to his question. Ike had then tried to find Titania or Rhys, but they were out in town. Still, Greil wasn't sure what kind of question Ike could have that Oscar couldn't answer.

"So are you gonna listen, Dad?" Ike asked, looking up at his father. Greil nodded and kneeled down, so he could look at his son better. Greil put his ax to one side and placed a hand on Ike's shoulder, nodding. "I wanna ask what the red string is for." Ike motioned to the ground, like a string was tied to his ankle. Greil gave Ike a puzzled look.

"What red string, Ike?" He asked. Ike gave his father an exasperated look, like Greil had just asked what color the sky was, or if Oscar was a good cook or not.

"The red string that's on my ankle! It won't go away! I can't cut it, or touch it, or anything! Why can't anyone else see them!" Ike looked like he was going to cry. He had been so certain his father would see it too. Was it some kind of joke? Was everyone just playing a prank on him? Greil patted Ike on the back, and the young boy fell into his father's arms.

"Don't worry Ike, I'm sure it'll go away... I'm sure you'll be able to solve it. You're a big boy, right?" Greil was busy trying to think of what in the world could be going on. He reached into every corner of his mind, even into the painful memories when Elena was alive. A red string attached to someone's ankle?

"O-Of course I'm a big boy!" Ike said, blinking stray tears out of his eyes. Greil nodded and smiled at his son. Why did he feel like he knew what Ike was talking about? Greil stood up, but continued to have a hand on Ike's shoulder.

"You're a big boy... Listen. When Rhys and Titania come back from town, then you ask them. You've seen Rhys reading those big books, right? Well, those are full of stuff that you wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of, but he does. I'm sure he'll know what you're talking about." Greil said, confidence in his voice. Ike nodded and ran off, smile on his face.

Greil remembered being told something about a red string, red strings, something like that. And he was confident that someone who used staffs had told him about it. And since Elena was... No longer with him, then Rhys would have to do.

Greil sighed as he picked up his ax and continued to train. Hopefully Ike would find his answers.

Soren was surprised he had survived for so long. He was eight, maybe nine (who was counting? Certainly not him). He had also managed to find an apprenticeship with a printer, and that meant two very important things.

One, Soren had somewhere to live and eat. He didn't have to worry about his next meal, or if he would sleep somewhere safe. Two, Soren could read again. He worked to print the books, and reading them was just another step. And so Soren was content, if not extremely happy with it.

His new master was understanding, if a little hard. Soren quickly learned the ropes of the job, and was supposed to carry out all the minor duties that his master considered appropriate for a young child. But his master fed him, and didn't beat him or starve him if he did something wrong. Just gave Soren a disapproving look and told him to do better next time.

And maybe the most important thing with his new master? Soren was learning, slowly at first but faster as he went on, how to speak. His master couldn't believe that Soren didn't know how to speak. So he had taught the boy, every single day.

"And after that, Soren, could you prepare the third printing press? I have another order coming and the other two are already busy." Soren nodded and walked off, grabbing a cleaning cloth as he walked past the supply closet. While Soren knew how to talk, and actually had better speech then most children his age, that didn't mean he liked to.

He had long since gotten used to seeing the bloody red strings everywhere. And, for the first time, a few months ago he had seen two people connected together. A young couple, walking around town on what appeared to be a date. Soren had actually done a double-take. Imagine, him, surprised! And over such a simple thing as well... Soren sighed as he remembered, cleaning off the old ink and cleaning off the blocks.

The two had seemed so happy, holding hands and smiling at each other. They acted like they were the only people in the world, the only thing in the world that mattered. Soren wondered what could get someone to act like that. Act so blissful, so happy, even though there was so much wrong with the world.

Soren forced back a grimace on his face, instead scowling as he cleaned the printing press. His long black hair (long because he found it impractical to use a dagger to cut it every few weeks, and because his hair grew so fast) falling past his shoulders and getting in his way. He frowned and pulled it back, making a mental note to get a band of some kind to hold it back. His master didn't like the idea of Soren having such long hair, but he didn't say anything.

Just another way Soren's old life was different then his current one. Soren was blasted out of his dreams by the sound of feet hitting the hard wooden floors, walking towards him. Soren looked away from his work and saw his master's young daughter, Jill, looking at him with her wide eyes. She was so young, so innocent. Soren couldn't help but wonder if all children grew up like her. He certainly hadn't grown up in such a safe environment, where you never worried about your next meal, or whether you'd have a place tor est your head at night.

"Is Soren helping Daddy?" Jill asked. Her bright blue eyes were attentive, and they took everything in. Soren knew, somehow, that she'd grow up to be a smart young woman. Because, unlike Soren a few years ago, she was almost guaranteed to grow up.

"Yes. Soren is helping 'Daddy'." Soren replied, standing up straight. He was almost done anyway, and while he loathed to speak with anyone (it didn't really matter to him who they were, he just didn't like talking) he supposed he could make exceptions for Jill. "Do you need something?" That didn't mean he'd abandon his strict, serious tone of voice. It wasn't like Jill cared. All she wanted was someone to talk to, Soren knew.

"I wanna know when Daddy is gonna be back... I'm lonely..." Jill said, sitting down on the floor. Soren supposed the sight would have brought tears to some, but not to him. Jill's mother had died from a plague, some time before Soren had come. Jill had no siblings, and she was too young to go to school. Soren's minor duties included keeping her out of trouble, when her father couldn't.

"Daddy just went out for a short time, Jill. He'll be back soon enough." Soren told her, not sure if he was lying or not. In all honesty, he didn't care.

He wondered what could drive a young girl like her to care so much for a man, who just said he was something that she couldn't even prove. She trusted her father completely, would follow him no matter what.

Soren couldn't say he'd ever feel that way for anyone.

Ike frowned as his father corrected his stance and his grip on the wooden sword, but smiled when his father said Ike looked like a young hero, ready to save his princess. Titania laughed and said that, hero or not, Ike still needed to eat his vegetables or he wouldn't grow up big and strong, like his father. Ike adopted a look that meant his was pouting, lowering his sword.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, as his father let out a low laugh and Titania smiled warmly at the boy. "I'm a big boy now! I don't need to eat my veggies!" Ike's attention was momentarily captured by the sound of someone walking over, and when he saw it was Rhys his grin grew. "Rhys! Hey! Titania and Dad are teaching me how to be a hero!" The bluenette said. Rhys laughed and ruffled Ike's hair as he walked over.

"Hello Ike. Hello Titania, Greil." Rhys gave them all warm smiles and they were returned. Rhys had a strange relationship with Ike, since the young boy came to him babbling about red strings attached to his ankle. Rhys had heard the myth, of course, since it was also connected to an infamous spell that was often confused.

A person would cast that spell, thinking it would show them the love of their life. Instead, they'd see the red strings that connected soul mates together, and would be able to find their love that way. But it was complicated and often times would go wrong. Rhys had heard of men getting it wrong and going crazy, being able to see all the strings. Or those who would see all the strings but their own.

"Is Rhys feeling better today?" Ike asked, jolting Rhys out of his thoughts. Rhys nodded.

"Yes, Ike. I'm feeling much better." He replied. Greil asked Rhys what he needed, and the priest smiled weakly. "Well, I mostly just wanted to watch... If that's all right? Fresh air is good for a person, and I was sick of staying in bed..." Greil knew Rhys wanted more then a little fresh air, but he didn't push. The leader of the mercenaries nodded and went back to teaching Ike how to hold his sword so it wouldn't go flying out of his hands the moment he started to fight.

This continued for around one and a half hours, Greil knowing that even Ike (who had enough energy for everyone) would tire eventually.

"I'm going to head up to the base and do inventory, unless you need me." Titania said, who had been trying to teach Ike how to use an ax as well (with mixed results). Greil shook his head and brushed off some sweat from his brow.

"I think it would be good for us all to get some water and rest. Remember Ike, a good warrior never pushes himself to far! There's a difference between pushing yourself to train, and pushing yourself to a dangerous level. Never forget that!" Ike, his eyes shinning, nodded at his father.

"Never push yourself to a dangerous level! Ok! I promise I'll remember that!" Ike said, thinking that anything his father said was important were precious gems of knowledge few knew about. His father was the smartest man alive, after all.

"Rhys, are you going to head back?" Titania asked. The priest shook his head. Greil had already started to walk towards the base.

"Don't mind me. I need to get some more herbs anyway." He replied. The paladin gave him a careful look, before deciding Rhys was in relatively good health and wouldn't fall over dead. Then she looked at Ike, who didn't look like he wanted to go inside right then.

"All right. Ike! Keep an eye on Rhys, ok?" Titania gave Rhys an apologetic look. "If you don't mind?" She added. Rhys shook his head again.

"No problem at all. I'd love to have someone to talk to, and it looks like he still has plenty of energy left over." Titania nodded and ran to catch up with Greil, Rhys standing up from his seat on a smooth rock and grabbing a basket and staff that he had brought with him. Ike looked positively ecstatic at the idea of being able to protect Rhys.

"Ok! Now I'll have practice to protect my princess when we go on strolls through the woods!" Ike looked at Rhys as they started to walk, looking proud of himself for using the word 'strolls'. "Isn't strolls a really impressive word, Rhys? I learned it just today!" He said, grinning a toothy grin. Rhys laughed and nodded.

"You sure are growing up! I can't believe you're already learning how to use a sword... Any idea who your princess is going to be?" Rhys asked, a little surprised Ike wasn't adverse to the idea of spending time with a girl. 'Isn't he at the age where girls have cooties?' Rhys thought to himself. Mentally shrugging it off, he listened to Ike's reply.

"Nah... Mist's my sister, and there aren't any girls here! 'Sides, I'm a hero! I have to go on a big quest or something to rescue her before I know who she is!" Rhys laughed at Ike's words, but stopped as the boy continued. "'Sides, how hard can it be to find her? After all, I've got my string!" Rhys's face suddenly fell for a moment, before it returned to his usual smile.

"Yes, that..." Rhys said softly, looking at the trees lining the forest path. While Rhys could accept that Ike saw his string, he couldn't come up with any answers of why. 'Maybe he was born with the ability.' Rhys thought. 'But then, why did he only bring it up a few years ago? Why not earlier?' Rhys knew that Ike had no magical talent, as he seemed to be much more inclined to swords then tomes, and the boy couldn't even read the Ancient Tongue.

"Is something wrong, Rhys?" Ike asked, looking up at his friend. Rhys suddenly noticed they had stopped walking and were in the middle of the forest path. The sound of birds chirping and leaves fluttering in the wind was calming to the priest. Rhys sighed and kneeled down slowly, so he could look into Ike's bright eyes.

"Ike... Can I ask you something? It's about the... The string you say you've been saying." Ike frowned but nodded. Rhys took a shaky breath. 'It's for his own good!' He told himself sternly. "You shouldn't go on about it anymore. You're a big boy, and too old for pretending things are real when they aren't... Even Mist and Rolf are out-growing make-believe." Ike looked like he was tearing up, and Rhys felt bad for saying anything at all.

"B-But it is real! I'm not making it up! It's here! Why can't anyone else see it?" Ike wailed the last part, shaking one of his legs. Rhys supposed that the leg was the one the string was attached to. Rhys bit his lip as Ike continued. "Mist an' Boyd are always making fun of me, but it's real, I'm telling you!" Ike wailed.

"I know it's real... Ike..." Rhys sighed as he put his hands on Ike's shoulders. "Not everyone can see the strings. Do you remember what I told you about them?" Ike thought for a moment.

"I can see the string that connects me to my true love?" He said hesitantly. Rhys nodded. "And not everyone can see them because not everyone believes in them?" Rhys nodded again. Ike adopted a look of thoughtfulness. "So... I'm special! I'm special because I can see who I'm going to marry someday!" Rhys smiled as Ike smiled.

"Yes. But I'm not sure how you can see the string, and not others. So you have to keep it to yourself, alright? It'll be our little secret." Rhys said, hurriedly trying to think of a way to convince Ike to stop talking about the strings. Luckily he didn't need to say anything else, as Ike looked fully convinced that Rhys was right.

"Ok! Our secret!"

Later, Rhys could tell that Greil, and the others, were glad Ike had stopped bugging them about a mysterious red string. When asked what he had done, Rhys just smiled and said that he convinced Ike to grow up a little.

Ike really was becoming a big boy.

All good things must come to an end. Soren wasn't sure where he had heard that- maybe a book?- but he accepted what it said. He just didn't think good things would come to an end so quickly. One year. One year was all it took to throw Soren's relatively normal life upside-down. Again.

Jill had fallen to the plague three weeks into it. 'Like her mother,' Soren couldn't help but realize. And then his master had fallen into a depression and hung himself two weeks later. And, once again, Soren was left alone to wander the world. He had taken everything he could from his master's old house. Food, coin, clothes. And something that was a sight for Soren's eyes; a wind tome. Soren hadn't seen one for at least three years, and the now-ten year old had taken a few moments to recognize it. He had taken that, and a thunder tome he couldn't work out yet.

But not he wasn't completely defenseless. Now he had something to protect himself.

And so Soren went off to wander Tellius. He was somewhere in Begnion, he believed, and now he was wandering towards Crimea. He wasn't sure why. Certainly he had heard the good stories about the current ruler, but it wasn't like Soren wanted to an apprenticeship with someone. Not since his last two had all ended with something bad happening.

'I must have passed the border by now...' Soren glumly though to himself. He, though he wanted to deny it, really did know why he was heading into Crimea. That was where his string led off to, roughly. Somewhere in Crimea, his 'fated lover' was living. Soren couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. What she liked to do. Whether she was royalty or poor. Soren supposed it didn't matter. If his string was attached to her, then they were fated to marry. Or something like that.

Because the talk with the man Soren had met, so very long ago, had struck something in Soren's mind. The strings were actually important. They weren't the things mad-men saw. But then Soren recalled the beggar, and the look of him, and Soren wondered if he would someday be that crazy. He hoped- prayed- not. And so he made his way to Crimea.

He didn't have much food left, his feet hurt with every step, and he was covered in dirt and grime and who knows what. And for what? A vain, stupid, hope. Soren sighed as he continued to walk, eyes facing the ground, following the red string that was the only thing that kept him going.

Ike was excited- today he'd be able to go into town for the entire day! Sure, Mist, and Boyd, and Rolf were coming so he couldn't brag about it, but he even had a special twenty gold to buy something for himself! Ike really wanted something to pull his hair out of his eyes, and wanted to get something for Father, and Titania, and Rhys, and Oscar! So there was Ike, being led into town by a very unwilling Shinon.

Oscar was going to, but then something (a mercenary job) came up and Shinon was the only person who was free, Rhys being too sick to go out of the base. Still, Ike didn't mind. Even though Shinon was what Boyd called a jerk, at least he didn't try to give them a bunch of boring old rules. Shinon just wanted them to stay safe.

"And no leaving the town without me! I'll know and I'll tell Oscar and Greil!" For the young children, that was the worst threat Shinon could both say and carry out. Mist almost immediately dragged Rolf off, heading towards the busy town center. Boyd glanced at Ike.

"Whatcha want to do then, Ike?" He asked, scratching his head. Ike shrugged, not sure either.

"I wanna look at all the shops. There's gotta be something interesting to do." The bluenette suggested. Boyd nodded and the two eleven year old boys started heading towards a slightly less busy side of the town.

Eventually, through different interests, Boyd and Ike split up. Boyd wandered around to try to find his little brother and Mist, while Ike had yet to find a good piece of cloth to use for a headband. He had found a few small trinkets for Oscar, Dad, Titania, and Rhys already, so once he found a headband he'd be able to buy some food with the rest of his money.

Ike found himself on the outskirts of the town, the quiet calming and relaxing him. He sighed and looked around, and just then noticed that his red string was practically in a straight line for the first time he'd ever seen it.

Now Ike was a big boy, being eleven years old in a few months, but he also listened to what his father said. Of course, Shinon wasn't his father, but he still had the same amount of power. And so Ike found himself in a little bit of a puzzle. Did he follow the string, or head back into town?

'The strings... They're magical, Ike. They connect people together. People who are meant to be together.' Rhys's words echoed in Ike's mind. And with that, Ike decided to plunge into the forest and find his true love.

After all, he was a hero.

Soren had stopped to rest what had to be the most over-used feet in all of Crimea, lying on a log that was actually pretty comfortable. The sun broke through the canopy of trees above him, and as he sat it warmed his body up, if not his spirits.

He was low on just about everything. His clothes wouldn't do for any kind of winter, even if he made his way back to Begnion. He really wanted to be cleaned off, because the dirt and mud was starting to get to him. And, while he knew it wasn't going to happen, a warm bed to rest for even a single night wouldn't be too bad.

Soren sighed, pulling his pack off his back and looking through it. He could, maybe, sell some of the books for some easy money. He wouldn't get the same deal as someone who looked dangerous, but he'd get money. But some part of him was loath to get rid of any of the books, and it wasn't just a sentimental value either.

The tomes, for example. He needed those, if just to feel safe. Soren hadn't been attacked yet, but as he grew older... Well, he figured it was just a matter of time. Speaking of a matter of time, a twig snapped somewhere behind Soren and the black-haired boy jumped to his feet, spinning around and hastily grabbing the wind tome.

"W-Who's there?" Soren nearly coughed after saying his words. He hadn't spoken in so long, his voice was hoarse. There was a small moment of silence before the reply.

"I... I just want to help." The voice replied. Soren wondered if it was just him, or it was starting to get hot. He shook his head and wished the person would go away.

"G-Go away! I don't need your help!" Soren said, clutching his tome even tighter. For some reason, Soren knew the voice (and its corresponding person) would not leave. "Last chance... One... Two..." Before saying 'three', Soren shouted his wind spell (those words... How long since he had said them?) and cast it into the trees.

Afterward, he promptly fainted.

Ike hadn't expected a young girl to throw a magical spell at him, like Rhys sometimes did in training, but he knew that he had to dodge it or be hurt. So, throwing himself to the ground, the spell went right over his head. Ike stood up shakily, looking into the small forest clearing, to see the girl had fainted. The girl would have, most likely, been left (despite Ike being a hero and all) if not for one thing. One small thing.

She was on the other end of Ike's red string. Ike had found her, finally found her! Ike wasn't sure whether he should start to dance, or grab his princess and run back to the base and declare himself a hero. But first things first, Ike wanted to check on the girl.

Running up to her and kneeling down, Ike put a hand on her forehead to find it blisteringly hot. 'She must have a fever and not know it!' Ike realized, eyes widening a little. 'That's what she fainted after casting a spell... Rhys always did say that spells are harder to cast then they look.' Ike quickly pulled all of the girl's stuff into the old bag she had been carrying.

'I suppose she'll want it when she wakes up...' Ike trailed off in his thoughts to take a few more seconds to look at the girl. She had long black hair, of course, but it looked more like liquid darkness, all spread out on the grass. Her skin was pale, like she didn't spend a lot of time outside, but Ike kind of liked it. It was different then what he usually saw. A strange red mark lay on her head, and Ike figured it was some kind of weird birthmark. Lastly, she looked small and a little frail, but obviously she had some tricks up her sleeves.

"Well, I suppose I better get you back to the base." Ike said, reaching down to pick her up. Suddenly, as if his touch had woken the magical princess rather then a kiss, the girl's eyes flew open. She let out some kind of strangled scream, backing away from him while grabbing her things. "Wait! I just want to help you!" Ike cried out.

The girl shook her head numbly and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her back, and ran out of the clearing. Ike was left alone, startled, and altogether puzzled. 'What was that for? Aren't we supposed to fall in love with each other or something?' Ike thought, standing up slowly.

It wasn't until later that Ike realized he had lost the last of his gold pieces, having dropped them in the girl's bag with the rest of her stuff. But some part of Ike though she could use them more then him, so he didn't really mind.

It wasn't until Soren wanted to buy some food that he became thankful for running into the strange blue-haired boy.