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Marth was 9 years old when his father decided he wasn't strong enough to be a proper prince.
The child was called into the throne room one day, and whenever that happened he was overcome with fear.
Elice calmly walked him down to the giant doors, holding his hand. "You're going to be alright, Marth. I'll be right out here waiting for you."
"What do I say to him?" the young boy whispered, his large blue eyes looking up into his sister's matching ones, looking at her like she had the answers to everything.
Elice knelt down to put her hands on her younger brother's trembling shoulders. "You respond to him in a loud, clear voice. You keep your eyes on him. You can't let him see how afraid you are, Marth." She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it. "I'm here, okay? Pretend I'm with you in there. Then you won't be so scared."
Marth nodded and gulped, turning to face the throne room again. "O-okay."
Elice inwardly cringed, hoping he wouldn't stutter like that in front of their father. She began a prayer to Naga as the humongous doors swung shut behind the tiny figure.
Inside, the king was pacing back and forth, a deeply troubled look on his face. He looked up when he heard the doors close. "Marth," he said, and came to a stop in front of his throne.
Marth kept walking, intimidated by the silence and the large room, until he was right in front of the dais. "You sent for me, Father?" He hoped he was speaking loudly and clearly, that he was hiding his fear. Elice was with him. She was right outside.
"My son, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. The political situation between the kingdoms grows more precarious every day, and there are whispers... I am afraid a war is imminent."
"War?" Marth couldn't mask his anxiety at the word.
"Yes. And you are woefully unprepared to help defend your kingdom."
Despite Elice's advice, Marth found his eyes looking down at the floor. "I- I'm sor-"
"Don't be sorry!" his father scoffed. "What we need to do is prepare you. The lessons I have tried to teach you thus far in life have all failed."
Marth wilted. He'd failed his father, his kingdom, his people.
"It's time to attempt a new tactic. I can't afford to be gentle with you any longer, Marth. Not with conflict on the horizon. You must be strong."
What Father had done to him so far was gentle?
"Come with me."
Marth's breathing quickened. Where were they going?? Elice wouldn't be there, he'd be alone with-!
"...Yes, Father."
Cornelius took his son by the shoulder and steered him through the castle, out onto the grounds. Soon, Marth saw the barracks building. He brightened. Were they going there? His retainers, Cain and Abel, were there, as well as his father's retainer, Jagen. They were always kind to him.
When they arrived, the knights were in the middle of combat drills. Everyone froze and snapped to attention as the king and young prince came into view.
"Sir Jagen," Cornelius said in his most commanding voice. "Today, you have a new recruit."
Marth felt like the floor had just dropped out from under him. "What?" he whispered.
"Your Majesty," Jagen said, concern evident in his voice. "The prince is but a boy."
"Are you defying me, Jagen?"
"Not at all," the white-haired paladin said, bowing his head respectfully. "But, as your chief adviser, I feel I need to point out to you the boy's age and size compared to the others."
"That is of no consequence. He needs to learn. Besides, we've had boys recruited into the Altean Knights before."
"Lads, Your Majesty. Not boys."
"No matter. You will teach him."
Jagen nodded. "As you command."
The knights all watched in silence as the king left the young prince in their charge. Were they really to be expected to battle a child?
Two knights, with bright red and bright green hair respectively, both quickly approached their commanding officer and Marth. "Hey, Prince Marth," the red-haired one smiled.
Marth was physically relieved. "Cain, Abel," he said, moving closer to them instinctively.
"We'll train with you, sire," Abel assured, brushing a lock of green hair out of his eyes. "Of course, as long as that's okay with Sir Jagen."
"Absolutely," Jagen said softly enough that only those three could hear him. "I know you'll take good care of him."
Marth could've cried at the way these knights were treating him so kindly.
Jagen turned to the rest of the knights and called, "Back to work, all of you! The prince has his assignment for the day."
The Altean Knights reluctantly returned to their training. In the meantime, Marth began his training for the first time.
"We'll give you the lightest sword, Your Highness," Cain said quickly, putting the thinnest rapier blade they had into the child's hand. The sight of one so young holding a weapon was uncomfortable to see.
Marth examined the sword. It was still somewhat heavy, but he thought he could manage it. "What... what do I do now?"
"I'll show you some forms. You won't be expected to fight," Abel said as they moved to a secluded corner of the training yard. "Let's start with your stance."
Several hours later, Cornelius returned. "Sir Jagen, how is my son progressing?"
"Very well, Your Majesty," Jagen said smoothly. "He is training with his very own retainers just over there."
Cornelius craned his neck and found the trio at the very back of the space. "Why are they away from everyone else?"
"Because, sire, Prince Marth has never held a blade before today. He wouldn't be able to perform the drills that the others are."
"Unacceptable."
"King Cornelius, please see reason. He is a boy who has just started to learn. He can't do what the others are doing."
They looked at each other coolly. Marth was just about the only subject the two disagreed on.
"War is coming, Jagen," Cornelius said.
"I know, Your Majesty," Jagen agreed. "But your son is still a child."
"And if something happens to me in the course of battle?"
"Please," Jagen said again. "He's a child."
"Prince Marth!" Cornelius bellowed over the heads of all in the training yard.
All movement came to a stop. Marth, who had been starting to enjoy himself with Cain's lighthearted humor and Abel's gentle encouragement showing him how to stand and where to place his sword, instantly became petrified. The easy smile dropped off his face in less time than it took to blink.
Everyone watched in silence as Cornelius walked the full distance to his son. Cain and Abel were caught between the desire to retain a respectful distance from the king, and to remain at the prince's side. But the king's stony glare finally won out.
"This is not the training I expected my son to be receiving."
"Our apologies, Your Majesty," Abel said, head bowed.
"But he-"
Abel quickly elbowed Cain in the side. Luckily, Cain took the hint.
"You need to become strong, Marth!" Cornelius urged, kneeling down and shaking the boy by the shoulders.
Marth just stared at his father with wide eyes.
"You need to become strong," the king murmured again. He rose to his feet and whirled around, eyes skimming every knight. "You!" he finally called, pointing at the largest of all of them.
The other knights quickly parted. The giant man looked nonplussed. "M-me, sire?"
"What is your name?"
"Draug. Your Majesty." He scrambled to add the honorific; he'd almost forgotten it.
"Step forward, Draug."
Draug did so, and had to look almost straight down to meet the prince's eyes. "Your Majesty...?"
"A duel," Cornelius said.
"No-!" Cain started, but Abel covered his mouth and pulled him farther into the corner.
"Sire, I-"
"You will duel my son." Even Cornelius had to look up at Draug.
"F-Father-" He'd never hurt another living thing in his life.
"Marth, do not question me! You are weak. You need to become strong."
Reluctantly, Draug assumed a duel-ready stance. Marth stared up at him in terror. Jagen looked on, unable to stop any of this. He was outranked.
"Prince Marth," Abel whispered, and Marth looked at him over his shoulder. "The third stance we showed you. You remember!"
As Marth nodded and got himself into position, the king leveled a stern look at the green cavalier. "You will not help my son again. He needs to do this on his own."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Abel said in a small voice.
The two combatants waited.
"Begin!" Cornelius called.
Hesitantly, Draug advanced forward. He started to swing his weapon, but when he saw Marth flinch he stopped.
"No going easy!" the king commanded. "Duel him as you would any other knight."
"Yes, Your Majesy," Draug said, and raised his wooden training sword again.
Marth was able to block the blow. He'd always been a quick learner, and the positions and stances he'd already been taught were of use to him. But stances weren't enough for real combat. After a successful few minutes, Draug got in a blow that felled the prince to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. He lay gasping, his sword falling far from his grip.
"You are weak," Cornelius said again, watching his son struggling for air on the ground. "You must become strong, my son. For your own good." With that, he turned, his cape flourishing behind him, and returned to Jagen. "Continue training him." His voice lowered so only Jagen could hear, and his tone became more contrite. "As you see fit."
"Very well, Your Majesty," Jagen nodded his approval.
And the king left.
Once he was gone, Cain and Abel rushed to their young charge's aid. "Prince Marth, you okay?" Cain asked, helping him sit up.
"Deep, steady breaths, Your Highness," Abel said soothingly. "It will go away on its own if you just keep breathing."
Marth was beginning to recover, but he flinched again when Draug approached.
"Sire, I am so sorry," the giant man said gently. "I had to..."
Marth's body relaxed. "I understand. My father..."
"He's a man who has to be obeyed," Abel said diplomatically, and Marth nodded.
"Did I hurt you too badly?" Draug asked.
"No," Marth assured him. "No, I'm fine. Abel is right, it's going away on its own."
"And your side?" That was where Draug had actually struck him.
"It's okay," Marth said, but he winced when he touched it.
"I can retrieve a vulnerary-"
"No," Marth said with determination this time. "No, I... I want to keep training."
Cain and Abel shared a glance. "Are you sure?" the red cavalier said.
"Yes. I... need to become strong."