Thirteen Years in One Hundred Steps: Theme 1 – Introduction

Days at the Smash Mansion were getting busy, what with the Brawl tournaments right around the corner and all. Everyone in the vicinity of the mansion could attest to that observation. Master Hand was in the middle of the bustle, renewing veteran Smasher contracts, inviting new potential Smashers, and solemnly breaking the news to some of the veterans that they might not be on the role list for Brawl. Crazy Hand spent his time organizing the item appearances for the fights, gathering data for the new Assist Trophies, and finalizing the functions of the all-new Smash Ball, the item that allowed Smashers to access their best and most powerful attacks - attacks known as Final Smash Moves.

At any rate, it was becoming apparent that some of the veteran Smashers would be kicked off the role list for Brawl. The subjects of interest and debate? Marth and Roy of Fire Emblem lore, of course. Both were the foreigners of the Smashers - Japanese their first language, and English their second language...only as a result of the magic Master Hand had worked around the mansion when it was first raised and founded.

It was a sad thought, however, to think that either or both had to leave.

After the Kingdom Hearts ordeal, at any rate, people began to see the true value that either swordsman possessed. Now that Master Hand had decreed that one or both of the Japan-originating heroes had a high chance of leaving, a somber vibe permeated through the mansion, settling heavily on all the Smashers - veterans and newcomers alike.

Neither of the two really cared though. Both had visitors from their respective worlds. Marth had his general hailing from Altea. Roy had his close friend with him. For both Marth and Roy, now was not the time to mope around about the future - Aliana and Jun sure did not enjoy having the two depressed - that was for sure. Well, Jun did not, anyway. It was hard to tell with Aliana, though. Her viewpoint on many things was rather blunt, so many people found it a wonder the two even got along.

The fact both Marth and Roy - or in this case, Marth - was a bit down about his supposed cut from the list became prominent as the fact became a greater deal.

And, of course, Aliana noticed this all too quickly.

The two were merely having a friendly chat up in Marth's room, more than often reminiscing on the past the two had shared. After all, they had known the other for a good thirteen years now.

"Thirteen years is quite a long while, wouldn't you say, Aliana?" Marth asked in one such conversation. He had flopped back down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "We've known each other since we were just little kids."

"Such an unlucky number," Aliana unexpectedly replied. "I've been a close friend to you for the past thirteen years? Disgust!"

Marth only rolled his eyes. "I love you too," he sarcastically countered.

No reply came from Aliana for a while. Her crimson eyes wandered off in a separate direction from Marth, also turning her back on him.

At this, Marth could only laugh. "Just like the time you decided to finally talk to us for the first time..."

~~+++===+++===+++~~

That was back when seconds were like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like days, days like weeks, weeks like years, and years like eons. Back when war and fighting mattered naught. Back when swordfighting was a mere pastime. Back when Marth and Aliana were aged five and four respectively. The good old childhood days, both would say. The good old childhood days.

Except they were not always good. They had their share of troubles. Marth back in his very young days often found himself the laughingstock of the city boys. He never had someone to call a friend save for his older sister Ellis and later on Aliana when he ended up finding her. Aliana herself was not much better off in her younger days - her older sister was favored over her, the younger sister. Aliana never supposed anything other than her parents hating her for no reason - she would learn later on that she was actually an illegitimate child, but that is another story unto itself.

Castle Altea back in those lazy days was very peaceful. King Cornelius had his businesses to take care of to keep Altea in working order, causing him to seldom spend any time with his son. Queen Eleanor looked after her precious son as much as possible, often teaching the young prince proper etiquette and mannerisms of the castle and of royalty in general. Princess Ellis was mostly off to herself, using most of her time with her mother or, when together with Marth, teaching him the leadership skills he would need to take up the Altean throne.

Of course, he failed such leadership expectations in the blink of an eye. Proper etiquette and mannerisms were easy to master - though he hated them - so easy that it quickly stuck to Marth's habitual calm behavior. Sadly, this noble manner of his that he had adopted very early on was what made the boys in the city poke so much fun at him, claiming he sounded like a girl more than a boy. His failure at learning leadership only added to the damage the perpetual teasing invoked.

So Marth's spirit had been broken long before anything else. He confided in his father's advisor Jeigan many times over, who naturally supported the young prince in his heated frustrations. The Master General, of course, did not consider himself as much of a father as he soon had to be, but for Marth's sake, Jeigan tried his best to discipline and teach Marth the values he had to learn of life.

Jeigan would ultimately thank himself later on for taking the responsibility of disciplining the young prince. If he had not, Marth would probably have been lower than a spoiled brat, and Jeigan would have been at a lost concerning the little girl Marth had found in the rain…

~~+++===+++===+++~~

That was just how lazy Altean court life had been back then. Marth had refused any and all playmates, keeping only to himself, Ellis, and Jeigan most of the time. Today was one such day. The promising spring day added a bit of flair to his youthful step, almost causing the boy to flounce all the way to Jeigan’s quarters at the base of the Northern Tower. He retained himself, however, and somehow managed to walk the whole way.

He found Jeigan already outside, apparently preparing for a brisk walk around the castle forests. He was garbed in light silk robes, a sign that he was off duty. Marth took note of the graying fringes of hair that decorated Jeigan’s black hair, thinking woefully of a time when his own radiant blue hair would turn silver…He shuddered at the thought and approached the Master General, giving a quick wave. “Master Jeigan,” Marth called, now running to meet the advisor. “Preparing for a walk in the forests again?”

An amused look manifested itself in Jeigan’s features before he replied. “In that I am, my prince. A fine day such as this,” He gave a quick wave to indicate their surroundings, “should not be wasted indoors.”

“I agree,” Marth replied, proud that his vocabulary was more developed than the average child. “May I have the permission to join?”

Jeigan could only laugh at Marth’s halting attempts for mature language. “No need to mature so quickly, Marth,” he chided. “Many adults, you will hear, regret not being able to treasure their childhood. I am sure you don’t wish to be one of them?”

The young prince wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I hear Father and Mother say that all the time,” he curtly stated. “I hate it,” He turned to Jeigan. “Why do adults whine about the same thing all the time?”

Jeigan actually suck to silence for a while as he strolled to the castle’s eastern gate. Marth obediently followed, catching up quickly enough to hear the Master General ask, “Do you have any friends, Marth?”

Being the child he was, the fact Jeigan had just completely changed the subject slipped easily past Marth. “No,” he abruptly answered with the same curt tone. “The people in the city hate me, Jeigan. I try to play with them, but they keep on making fun of me…”

Jeigan had opened the western gate by this time, and had exited the castle to the natural greens of the forests that surrounded the edifice on three sides. Marth still kept an even pace with the Master General as he went on. “And why do you believe they’re making fun of you?”

“I already told you. They say I sound like a girl…”

“Yet you’re not.”

“I’m not.”

A silence settled over the pair as they continued on through the forests. Trees of every size and species grew around the castle. It was almost impossible to call one place the same as it was the day before – there always seemed to be something different each time Marth passed through this area. He enjoyed the natural shade the trees provided in the spring and summertimes. It was always cool during the warm seasons, so nice that those were the seasons he would be missing from the castle, only to be found sleeping comfortably somewhere in the forest. His lullaby? Marth – at that time, anyway – believed the forest had songs of its own. The way the wind whispered through the trees lulled him to a deep sleep when he was on his own. A voice of the forest, he believed, was what called him here all the time. He had no idea or basis for that conjecture, but he knew he was being called to this forest time and time again for something or other. How nice it would be, he thought, to meet the love of his life or even a best friend in this forest, someone who also believed in the voice of the forest. Someone he could relate to. Someone who he would have no problems playing with.

He would love to introduce himself to such a person. But was there such a person out there?

Marth turned his attention back to Jeigan just when the Master General began speaking once more. “So you say you have no friends?”

“No sir.”

“Have you tried joining the girls, or perhaps a group of both genders?”

Marth now held an appalled tone. “I am not joining the girls, and they kick me out of the group if both boys and girls are there.”

“What to do with you?” Jeigan sighed. “The children of the city reject you. You refuse any and all playmates –“

“I don’t want someone who’s forced to play with me when they don’t want to,” Marth curtly replied. “I want a friend, Jeigan. Someone who doesn’t know me at all. Someone I can talk to about myself. I want to get to know about someone, a person who can be my friend.”

“A rather tall order,” Jeigan conceded. “You would need to leave Altea to have such a friend.”

“No I don’t. I know there’s someone here in Altea who can be my friend. I just know it.”

Such dreams, Jeigan thought to himself.

The time had progressed to some point around midafternoon. Jeigan and Marth had advanced far into the woods by this point, and from the looks of the sky, the friendly spring weather was steadily becoming more and more aggressive with oncoming rain. Unpleasantly gray clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the warm sun and orange sky.

“Ah. The Falls of March,” Jeigan murmured knowingly. He turned on his heel to head back. “We should head back, Marth, before the falls begin.”

And in all actuality, he knew. Marth knew the best thing to do was to leave the forest before the rains came. Yet a sort of promising feeling held him back. A promising and rebellious feeling kept him rooted to the spot.

And now he heard the voice. Or really, a voice that pervaded through the forest. It told him to stay in the forest. Something or someone was waiting for him. He thought he could hear where the voice was coming from. And really, he was ready to run off in the direction of the source of the voice. But the first drop of rain from the grayed skies above cut his rebellious instincts short, and Marth took to hesitantly following Jeigan once more.

Marth had closely followed the Master General, especially when the rains came down harder, but when a rushing sensation blasted through the trees, he could not contain himself any longer. Turning back around, he tore back through the forest, now relying on instinct to follow that voice. Jeigan’s voice calling him back disappeared into the voids of his wandering mind as the torrents of rain ripped at his face. He could tell, or really, he believed, the voice of the forest was growing louder.

A dull realization came to him saying that Jeigan was right on his heels, trying with much effort to keep up.

Knowing what would happen if he lollygagged any longer, he picked up his pace, soon dashing his fastest through the rain-slicked forests, faithfully following his instinct, disregarding the rain that now came down harder than before.

Not necessarily a thunderstorm, of course, just heavy rains that blanketed the woods with a thick mist. The soft patter of rain gently hitting the canopy above reverberated almost lullingly around him. Yet he did not allow the steady rhythm to break the concentration he focused for the voice of the forest. He could almost see an aura radiating through the forest canopy, but of course, such an aura was just a figment of the young prince’s imagination. It was truth, however, that something seemed to call him to the heart of the eastern forest.

Marth could only rip through the saturated forest – with Jeigan hot on his heels – to find out what it was that called him so.

~~+++===+++===+++~~

At the heart was a clearing.

At the clearing was an awesome black oak tree.

And lying facedown at the base of the tree…

Marth wasted no time rushing over to the child’s prone figure, Jeigan behind him with the same degree of concern etched in his features.

~~+++===+++===+++~~

And little did any of the characters know that the curtains had just been lifted off of their stage…