Disclaimer: I own no part of Fire Emblem.

This is all Karel reflecting on his past. I will make a point to state what age he is at near the beginning of the chapter. Somewhat of a spoiler if you haven't read his support conversations with Karla. (Sort of) In this chapter he still a small child, around the age of seven.

"Father? What is this?" I held the Wo Dao in my hands. It was a light sword but it laid so heavily in my soft, fragile, little hands. The edge of the hilt cut into my skin. I hated it. I hated the feeling it gave me. Still…it was addicting. I wanted to drop it to the floor and pull it closer all at the same time. But I wasn't given the chance to do either. He lifted it from my grasp, mounting it back on the wall.

"This is the Wo Dao. A family heirloom, past down from the greatest warrior to his heir. One of you will inherit it. Whoever is most deserving."

"Most deserving?" My eyes shifted back to the blade. "Am I deserving?"

A certain lust reverberated in his eyes so strong that it entranced me. I could never have understood then what it meant to be deserving. "I expect great things from you, Karel. You of all your siblings. I believe you will go the furthest."

"I will inherit it!?" I was an idiot child. I was concerned more with the competitive nature spawned by sibling rivalry than I was the actual prize. Even then I refused to lose. I would not be inferior.

"Perhaps. If you work hard enough. Reach your full potential, and none of them will be able to match you. Not any of your brothers."

"But they're so much older…" In those days I was narrow sighted enough to believe that age actually mattered.

"So what of it? The blade knows nothing but blood, which runs pure red from whatever it leaks from, and death fears no age, size, or gender. Do you want to be a warrior, Karel?"

"Yes! I will be the best! Better than all of them!"

"Then we will begin your training tomorrow. Get some rest. I don't want you lagging behind."

"All right! Good-night father!"

I still remember that grin on his face. One not of affection, but greed in its simplest form. "Good-night, Karel." I would know nothing of good tidings after what I would experience the next day.

"Brother? Where are you going so early?" Karla grabbed my wrist. She was the smallest of all of us and at that time only five years of age. I must had woken her up as I began to leave the room. Her hair came to her shoulders, with it being snarled from sleeping. When she came and stood beside me, she reached only my shoulders though we were not that far apart in age. Back in those days…we were inseparable.

"Father is going to begin training me! He said I could inherit the sword!"

I remember her tilting her head with little understanding. "A sword? Why would you want something like that?"

"Because…" That was the truth of it. I had no real reason. Nothing other than… "I want to be better than our older brothers."

"After father took Adam training… he changed. I don't think you should go. Swords are used to kill people anyway. Why would we need anything like that?"

"I'm not going to hurt anyone! Besides, Adam is probably just…getting older. People do eventually change!"

"Please…be careful." She said nothing else as she crawled back into bed, turning away from me.