✟ Ricken ✟ Starter Call ✟
If Libra was being honest, Ricken’s presence in the Shepards had always unsettled him. Make no mistake: it wasn’t because he had a problem with the other. If he stayed at their base of operations, helping from a distance, then he would have less qualms with the arrangement. It was his age that concerned Libra.
War was no place for children. Unfortunately, they were dragged into it far too often. Libra could remember the masses of homeless and starving children during the last war between Ylisse and Plegia. Some of them were picked up and off of the streets and given a weapon with the promise of food and shelter for their cooperation and service. Despite those offers, only a small handful of them ever came back from war to receive what they were promised. Those that did survive were often denied the provisions that they had joined the army for.
Granted, Libra had no idea just how old Ricken really was. He could simply look young. The priest was well aware that one’s looks could be deceiving. Even so, he worried. He was nearly certain that he had parents or family that worried about him. Why would he choose to subject himself to the horrors of life-or-death combat? Perhaps—
❝ Beg pardon, Ricken, ❞ he finally spoke, glancing up from his meal to look at the young man sitting across from him, ❝ but if I may ask…what was it that prompted you to join the Shepards? ❞
