M.E. 741

Eliwood pondered at the document that lay in front of him. While tired, having actually spent many nights in his office rather than his own bed and next to his wife, he was astute and dedicated to his duty.

Remembering that conversation he had with Regis one year ago, the so-called prophecy the king was given, his son, Noctis was to be the True King of Light, the best course of option was to aim for the future that would lead to the Starscourge to be expunged. Even if it meant for Noctis to lose his life. It was such a heavy decision, something that weighed heavily on Regis' mind, and was something that shouldn't be made lightly. In doing so, they wanted to make preparations until the day Noctis would need to rise up and enact the duty he had been given. For the sake of their people and the world itself.

In the vision Regis was given, Noctis was alone, having to take on the journey by himself. Especially the vision that showed him to become a monster. In doing so, they prepared his retinue, something that had already been planned out for him. His son, Y/N, would be Noctis' Sword of the King, the dedicated knight and warrior to serve as the main general. Gladiolus Amicitia, the son of Clarus Amicitia, is the Shield of the King, the dedicated protector. And lastly, Ignis Stupeo Scientia from House Scientia, faithful servants to the Caelum Household since the inception. And Ignis' uncle is already serving as Regis' Hand, the Hand of the King being a specific position that advises the king in any sort of decisions and duty they need to make. The retinue was already settled, and when they come of age and when the time comes, Y/N, Gladiolus, and Ignis would embark with Noctis on his journey.

The second idea that Regis proposed to him was the creation of a task force of sorts. More so a bodyguard organization that was completely separate from the Crownsguard. And for now, Eliwood himself was chosen to lead until they found a suitable person to have as the leader. The Kingsglaive is what they will call it. Very fitting. A unit that is solely meant to be the king's personal bodyguard and strongest warriors.

Which leads up to the moment of now, Eliwood looking over document after document, searching for potential candidates to serve as members of the newly established Kingsglaive. Unlike the Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive would be given access to the magic utilized by the king, similar to their predecessors of many years ago, the Royal Guard. And the magic of the king being bestowed upon them was no simple task, and it is a rather arduous one at that. To be using the king's power meant to be in honor of the king and be dedicated to serving them.

And not many are able to offer that much service to the king. Not many are able to meet the desires and orders that are to be said. Then again, the main problem was choosing individuals as to who had the right magical aptitude to even handle the king's magic in the first place. Using the king's magic required a lot of mana and energy, and should it be used unnaturally, without proper cause and purpose, it would be dangerous in the individual's hands. But even then, it would be useless if you didn't have the correct magical aptitude in the first place.

He flipped through a couple more documents. His brow furrowed, even more than usual as he rubbed his head at the candidates he had already looked at. For the most part, they showed great speed and strength, earning high marks amongst the combat instructors, but their magic aptitude was a bit more on the lower end of the spectrum. He could acknowledge that these fighters were well rounded, but they would be useless to the Kingsglaive if they can't wield any magic at all. Their criteria were to look for individuals that had a high amount of aptitude to use magic.

Eliwood glanced at the clock nearby in his office. The wall clock displayed 6:48 PM. He sighed. The longer he drawled here, the longer he'd get nowhere if he continued to ponder at these.

"A break is quite necessary at this point," the man muttered, standing up from his chair. "Perhaps a bit of dinner and a coffee will do me some good. Maybe I'll ask Rufus to brew me a cup."

The red-haired man grabbed his essentials, bundling up the documents into the file and putting them into his shoulder bag. Hoisting it onto his shoulder and grabbing his large overcoat, Eliwood exited his office's door and proceeded on down the hallway, pressing the elevator button for down. As he stared aimlessly, he heard a voice call out to him. It was Clarus, a good friend of his, the second co-leader of the Crownsguard and Shield for King Regis.

Clarus was a man in his late thirties, Eliwood just a few years younger than him. He had quite a bit of hair on his head, but you could distinctly tell that he was balding. And like His Majesty, Clarus had a bit of a scruffy beard as well, though a little bit more clean shaven about now. At this point, it was more of a stubble than a scruffy one. He wore the usual attire of a Lucian counselman, a large black robe with a prolific design to it and many gold ornaments, as do many of the Lucian garbs were when it came to officials and royalty wear.

The Shield shook the Sword's hand, "Eliwood, it has been far too long to give ourselves a proper talk."

Eliwood returned the gesture with a firm grip, "Indeed it has, old friend. I was just about to head down to the kitchen to ask Rufus to brew me a coffee. Care to join me?"

"No need," he chuckled. "I was going to be heading home today. I promised Gladio I would."

"Ah, and how is young Gladio doing? I've heard from N/N that he was often complaining about sparring with the little prince."

Clarus let out a dry laugh. "Fairly well. Although he has voiced his misgivings about Prince Noctis. The Prince is but an only child, and he has no mother figure to scold him. And I don't necessarily blame my son either. I recall His Majesty being the very same when we were younger."

"Those were the days. Times were far more simpler. And we didn't need to stress over the war that is currently upon our shoulders."

"Aye." Clarus caught sight of the file poking out of his bag. "What's that?"

"Oh, this? You needn't worry about it. Just a little assignment His Majesty gave me."

"Humor me. I have been quite curious about your dealings lately."

"Well, His Majesty asked if I could assemble a task force for the moment. The Kingsglaive, he calls it. His own personal guard, especially when it comes to protecting Prince Noctis."

Clarus frowned. "A personal guard?"

"Don't be alarmed, old friend. He doesn't intend to replace us or the Crownsguard. Rather been feeling very cautious about the security of the kingdom. And Prince Noctis', of course."

"I suppose... What are the criteria for the individuals, if I may ask?"

"His Majesty plans to lend the Glaives his magic, so users with an aptitude of magic. But so far, the candidates I've sifted through are on the rather poor end of things," Eliwood admitted, frowning at the failure of the task so far.

"Hmm. I see. Then I suppose you will be leading this new Kingsglaive organization?"

"For now. Until we can find a proper soldier to take order," the Sword of the King explained. "Though for now, I don't want to dwell on the matter. I've been sleeping in the office as of late."

Clarus chortled, "You and me both. But tonight, hopefully I'll be able to get a good night's rest. Another busy day tomorrow."

"Such is our life. But... I wouldn't change it for the world, to be honest. It is a privilege to stand with you all, you know."

"To that we agree on." The elevator dinged, signaling that the elevator arrived. "Ah, I just remembered that I need to run something for Lyndis. I'll have to delay my elevator ride."

"Very well. Until then, Clarus."

They bid each other farewell and Eliwood stepped into the elevator. He sighed, pressing the button for the lowest floor, the elevator doors closed. Simultaneously, he closed his eyes.

Such extents to be made for the future that had been revealed. He could only hope that they would go well.

---

Amidst the walls of the Citadel, wandering along the many halls was a young boy. The familiarity of the fiery red hair was uncanny. Definitely the son of Eliwood L/N, Y/N L/N.

Y/N was a curious boy. An astute observer and quick learner. Easily fascinated with the ins and outs of the Crownsguard and the everbound duty of theirs. Before he had learned to read and write, the young man pestered for his father and aunt figure, Lyndis "Lyn" Caelin, to teach him the way of the sword. The boy was already aware that he was to be the next-in-line for the position of Sword of the King, a position and duty that had been their family's duty for many generations.

It was like the learning and skills of swordplay were deeply ingrained in him. Most would often consider him a prodigy. From the age of four, utilizing his observing skills, he had already picked up on how his father fought in sparring matches and the like. Not only that, when he began sword training himself at the age of five, he had quickly formulated his own fighting style. Fighting with a reverse hand grip of sorts, emphasizing on speed and endurance, using quick and strong strikes, slashes, and thrusts with the blade, it was far different than the elegant fighting style that Eliwood was mostly accustomed to. This was probably because of his training with Lyn and Cor, Cor often accompanying the green-haired woman. The two of them often did focus on offensive fighting while Eliwood himself was more of an all around type of style.

Incorporating the elegant, quick-footed style of the L/N swordplay and his own reverse hand gripped, aggressive fighting style, he came up with a name for it. Double-Edge Dance. It was a rather fitting name for it.

As to why Y/N was wandering around the Citadel's corridors is because he came to visit his father. Most likely to ask him if he was attending dinner, along with the fact that his mother was desperate to see her husband as well. The woman was quite frail, one could say that she was prone to sickness. Because of this circumstance, Ninian was often confined to the rooms of their home. If she were to go out, a couple aides or more would be with her to assist her in getting around the place. This time, however, Y/N went in place of his mother to get to his father, being accompanied by an aide as well. But because the young boy was fascinated by the Citadel himself, as this was the first time he was setting foot in it, he ended up wandering off. Well, Y/N was more so drawn to the echoed clanging of weapons in the distance, a desire sparking within him to see the duel take place.

Leaving his aide's side, he went down the halls and corridors, keeping his ears open as to determine where the sounds of metal upon metal were coming from. Arriving at the nearby training ground, he propped the door open and peered his head in. Inside were numerous people, but only two people looked like Lucians. In fact, one of those Lucians was his aunt figure, Lyn. Though most people wouldn't consider Lyn a "true" Insomnian resident, her mother being born in the city whilst her father was a nomadic group that lived outside of the Crown City's walls. But it was because of his father's support and word that led her to coming into Insomnia in the first place, quickly earning her place as one of the Crownsguard's strongest warriors once inducted into it. The Blade Lord, they called her. Just give her any blade and she could easily master it and be proficient with ease.

With a keen eye, he watched his aunt evaluate the other members here, most likely refugees from the many outlands of territories on Lucis' borders. These individuals were well rounded fighters, that much Y/N could tell. Far different from the well-disciplined and honor made members of the Crownsguard, a majority of the outlanders were brash and aggressive, prone to arguments and needless fights and squabbles. But one thing Y/N admired about the outlanders was their overall tenacity and intelligence. Even when knocked down and on the ropes, if the situation were to spell doom for them, they would instantly get back up and possibly take them down with them or craft a rather unorthodox plan to seize the win. It was honestly something impressive. Not many warriors are able to the amount of tenacity these outlanders had. To keep going until what would be considered their "death" in these mock battles was a skill that could only be harnessed by those willing to keep going, until all the blood within their bodies had been spilled or if they were killed immediately.

As the young boy continued to watch, two young men came across the six-year-old. These two young men were formally invited to be part of the Kingsglaive, but of course, they first had to be tested. The two young men were joyfully bantering with each other before they saw the young boy peering into the room, looking at him quizzically.

The first one spoke up, "The hell is a kid doin' 'round here?"

"Probably some kid to some big shot Lucian here," the second sneered. "Just ignore him, he'll eventually go away."

"Heard that, little boy?" The other spoke, puffing his spiked red hair up with his hand. "Go on, get out here. Only the big boys are meant to be here."

"Knock it off, Tredd," a third voice suddenly spoke up. Y/N and the other two men looked to it, seeing another relatively young man walk up to them. These men looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, the third newcomer having dark grey hair with blue eyes that almost twinkled with bravery. "Leave the kid alone. We're about to be called up for the next session."

The first one, Tredd, sarcastically laughed. "You know, Nyx, you're always playing the goddamn hero. When are you ever gonna learn that you should really know your place, huh?"

"Doesn't matter. Just leave the kid alone," Nyx reinforces, then looking to the second. "Come on, Luche, you really gonna put up with this behavior?"

The second young man held his hands up, "Hey, I didn't do nothing. I just said to ignore him."

"Just leave the kid alone."

"Whatever," Tredd scoffed. "You heard him, kid. Scram."

Tredd and Luche seemed to be mirthing to themselves as they went back to a group within the hall. Nyx sighed, the older teenager staring down at the young Y/N before giving him a small smile.

"Keep your chin up, kid. You've got a spark within you. Don't let anyone or anything stop you."

Y/N could only nod at the man. He watched as Nyx began to walk away, heading to a slightly bigger teenage boy that was his age. But instead of taking the advice to go away, Y/N simply stayed. He watched as the young men and women continued doing training exercises, routinely doing spars, the stronger ones of the two sparring usually being the ones winning. However, there were cunning individuals that were able to get the upper hand during their bouts. While some may consider that cheating, on the horizon of war, any sort of advantage would be beneficial. No matter how downright "dirty" it could be considered. Though they were simply testing which batch of people would be considered as soldiers and fit enough to test as to who could handle the king's magic. Not everyone could handle it.

As Y/N watched, quietly like a hawk, the next two came up for their bout. It seemed this one was a rematch. Tredd and Nyx. The young man with a buzz cut of sorts held his cocky grin, as opposed to Nyx's overly calm and composed exterior. Both were wielding short swords, held at their sides as they waited for the signal to commence. Lyn eyed the two of them, her eyes giving each of the combatants a glance as she raised her hand up in the air and swiftly brought it down. The signal given, the two young men charged at each other. A battle cry rang out throughout the training hall, Nyx leaping into the air with motion as he prepared for a thrusting action with his arm, Tredd merely brushing the blade off to the side with his own. A rather loud sheen echoed with slight sparks, Tredd following up with a punch to the face. Nyx grunted as he suffered the blow, but he was quick to recover and used his knee to strike Tredd in the stomach, eyes jolting wide for a moment and some spit being launched out. Some of the on-goers cheered and let out whistles, amused by the display of force.

Nyx gives a jab to Tredd's face and chest, causing the other young man to stumble back. A grunt and a heave, he rushes forward with his blade raised up high. The young Galahdan readied himself and got into a defensive stance, parrying and matching Tredd's skill with ease. Specks of sweat being flung off their foreheads and arms, the match was fierce and tense, both combatants having a burning desire to win. After all, they accepted this offer to come to the Crown City in hopes of becoming soldiers in order to save their homes. As the match continued, a quick-footed battle of blades ensuing evermore, the footwork began to waltz all over the place. However, an unfortunate misstep on Nyx's part causes him to fall onto his back, making him vulnerable and allowing Tredd to follow-up on this opportunity. With a sharp blade pointed toward his neck, a lump in his throat as the wind left the pipe, Nyx was caught at a stand still and faced with Tredd's overbearing smirk of triumph.

"Whatcha gonna do now, 'Hero'?" Tredd taunted.

The Galahdan only grunted and attempted to swing his short sword, Tredd tutting as he used his free foot to swat the blade away. It flew a few feet and clattered along the shiny flooring. Lyn used her fingers to blow a whistling noise. The match was over and Tredd won.

Though instead of good sportsmanship, the young man placed his boot firmly on Nyx's chest and applied pressure. The Galahdan groaned in pain, Tredd taking great joy in watching Nyx's face scrunch in pain. Before Lyn (or anyone else for that matter) could intervene, a simple pebble was thrown Tredd's way, knocking him right in the head with a small thunk.

"Ow! What the—!?" Tredd glanced at where the pebble was thrown from. He only spotted the young Y/N standing there with a nonchalant face. "You little—"

'What the...? This kid...' Nyx began in his head, "Run—!"

Tredd dashed toward the young red-haired boy, fury and anger evident in his eyes and face. Just from that small provocation was enough to irk and annoy him. Then again, he clearly told this kid to shove off (unaware who this boy was). Aiming to punch him, he only met air, due to Y/N's smaller frame, he had a more advantageous tactic to easily avoid the larger boy. As well as being quick on his feet, Y/N had dove right between Tredd's legs and slid across the floor.

Everyone wanted to jump in, especially the Crownsguard, to stop Y/N from doing something dangerous. But a single raised hand from Lyn caused them to halt, the green-haired woman looking at her "nephew" with a curious glint in her gaze. She watched as Y/N instantly retrieved Nyx's fallen short sword, the young boy stepping on the tip and swinging it up toward his hand, catching the blade gracefully by the handle. Tredd only growled and spit onto the floor, unamused that the boy decided to be his next opponent.

"So the runt wants to play 'hero', eh? I suggest you put down that sword, kid. You really wouldn't want to run home to daddy with cuts all over your face. Even worse, a missing arm and a leg."

Y/N, however, only said nothing, gesturing with the blade and saying "come over here". This angered Tredd even more, barreling down the training hall with vigor.

On build alone, Tredd was the perfect soldier. Well built with muscles to back up his strength. His own agility and speed weren't something to be gobsmacked at but he was a tenacious fighter, as was everyone else. But if there was something he did lack, it was definitely the brain department. He wasn't the brightest person there was (nor did he have a lot of thinking power). Though to say that a child would be far smarter than this person right here would be crazy to some people, Y/N wasn't an ordinary one. Due to his noble status and the position he would inherit when he was of age, Y/N had to be prepared and ready to take up the position at all times. Which meant, of course, that he would receive the finest of education and tutelage. His teachers were in fact the Blade Lord, Lyndis herself, and Cor Leonis. Aside from being close friends with Eliwood, there were only a few people he would entrust the noble duties of his position and the tutelage of his son to. So aside from Clarus, Regis, and a few individuals in House Scientia, Lyn and Cor were arguably the next choice to pick. That, and these two were also known to be the strongest in the Crownsguard.

Graceful side step to the left, and then another to the right, followed with repeated steps backwards as Tredd would slash and thrust at the marble flooring toward the boy's feet. But being quicker and better with his reflexes, Y/N was victorious in that manner of things. How about strength? It was far much easier to say that Tredd was the better candidate, but just because someone was stronger didn't mean that they would win the fight. Perhaps some fights could be overwhelmed with sheer force and brute strength alone. But at the end of the day, usually the wittiest and smartest of fighters were the victorious candidate. And Y/N had that edge—No—More accurate to say that is his edge against Tredd.

Tredd proceeded to get even more angrier and furious, each twang and clang against the floor from his missed strikes beginning to irritate him by the second. Even more so when Y/N displayed a rather cocky grin on his face. He didn't even realize that the cocky nature of the young boy and his own angry attitude was leading to his own downfall. Another slash at the floor, Y/N jumped forward into the air in the direction of Tredd, landing on his arm and propelling off of it. A swift kick to his face, almost like a loud crack had filled the air, Y/N landed gracefully onto the floor. Tredd was reeling his head back in pain, face scrunched as he held his nose, blood trickling down his chin as it dropped to the floor. He didn't think a six-year old could deliver that powerful of a kick to his face.

Though his fury was ever prevalent, he rushed down again, all thought thrown out the window with the sole idea of just pummeling the young Y/N to the ground with sheer force. Maybe even riddle him with a few stabs here and there. But being a big headed fool could only get him so far, Y/N performing quick slashes and uppercuts with his blade and knocking the short sword out of his hand, followed up with a drop kick to his chest, finally, the red-haired young man was knocked onto the floor, lying flat on his back. With a groan of discomfort, trying to raise his head up, a choke held in his throat as a pointed tip was pointed directly between his eyes. It gleamed a bright reflection off the blade, Tredd able to see his defeated form in the silvery sheen of the metal. He felt an embarrassed blush rush to his cheeks, biting his lip in utter refusal of anger, but he had no choice but to raise his hands up in surrender.

Still keeping his cocky smirk, Y/N only twirled and spun the blade in his hand, skillfully without a hint of cutting himself, he brought it to his side like he sheathed it and simply walked over to Lyn's side. Looking up at her, the young boy only saw an amused grin on the green-haired woman's, only for it to return to a stoic and composed expression as she addressed the young soldiers-in-training.

"That will be enough for today. You may all go down to the barracks you stayed in last night. Of course, if you wish to train a little bit longer before the final evaluation two days from now, the training hall will be open later this evening. Until then, dismissed."

A few people tried to help Tredd up, only for that young man to shove the arms off and walk away, pivoting on his heel as he exited the training hall to sulk. Slight murmurs to the young men and women of the outer towns of Lucis as they stared at the young man, some in awe of his skill for such a young age whilst others were merely thinking that the spectacle was some sort of organized event. Either way, it seemed that some were still quite eager to prove themselves later today so they quickly hurried out of the hall so they could rest.

Now it was just Lyn and Y/N alone in the hall, the green-haired woman bringing her hand up to his hand and giving his bright red hair a good ruffle.

"That was quite courageous of you to stand up to him like that. But do be careful in the future, got it?" Lyn chided, though her tone was still amused.

"Yes, aunty," Y/N said with a slight bow of his head. Fiery and excited in a fight, but always proper and respectful.

"Good. Now then, run along. Your father has been calling me twenty times on my cell for quite a while now. He's quite worried since you've taken off from your aide."

A sheepish grin, Y/N only nodded at the green-haired woman, thanking her momentarily before he took off out the hall. Lyn stared at his receding figure before she heard a few claps, turning her head behind her to the other entrance of the training hall. Standing there was Regis, who strode in with a regal aura about him, a gentle smile on his face.

"My, my, that was quite the performance, wouldn't you say, Lyndis?" He jovially chuckled. "Quite the lion, young Y/N is."

"Indeed, Your Grace. Bright and courageous," Lyn said, a mirthful chuckle escaping her own lips. "His training has been going well. Cor and I have seen how rather attentive he's been. To the point that he's beginning to concoct his own style."

"Is he now? It seems Eliwood has quite the prodigal son on his hands."

"If I may ask, Your Grace, has your...health been better?"

Regis was silent for a while. "It has... Seen better days, that much is certain. Maintaining the Wall has its consequences as does it has its benefits. But that doesn't mean I'll fall so easily."

"Of course, I didn't mean to word it that way—"

"No need, old friend. I understand." The ever weary king sighed heavily. "I can only hope that... When the time comes, they will be prepared."

Lyn frowned, "Not to be rude, My Liege, but you don't mean that you won't foresee the end of the war before you pass it on to the young prince?"

"I can only hope, Lyn. I can only hope that I'll be able to do all that I can. But unfortunately, I fear that dark times will be coming soon. Until that day comes, watch over them, will you?" A glittering glimmer of sorrowness, one of guilt was present in Regis' eyes. But they were meaningful, his question was one of diligence and importance.

Lyn only bowed. "Of course, Your Grace."

"You've always been a good friend to me, Lyn. You, Clarus, Eliwood, Cor... All of you. I thank you. Truly. Thank you for pleading with the plight of this foolish king."

"One of the few foolish kings I'll follow, Your Grace."

[Chapter II] | Young Lion