Ho-hum, another silly oneshot.
Having said this, I think this is actually the hardest time I've ever had writing something. Butbutbutbutbut...I wrote Soren without a single mention of Ike! For some reason, this makes me proud. Though, it was probably what made it so hard to write. XD
His primary thought is that of duty, as it ever is with Soren. He is here for duty, to learn and understand, nothing more. He is not there as one of them, nor does he have any wish to be. Their company is as welcoming as can be expected, given the circumstances, yet…
Yet he saw the looks in their eyes when he arrived, and knows that he is not truly welcome here. He noticed as the female myrmidon's gaze slowly shifted from his eyes to his forehead, and in that instant, he grew to hate her. To hate all of them. This is largely Soren's problem - he dislikes those who judge him so hastily, fully aware that it is human nature to do so. Because of this, he hates them all.
None of them know him, nor do they express any sort of desire to rectify this. So far as they are concerned, he will be here for two weeks and will then vanish from their lives. It would be a waste of time attempting to make such a cold young man open up. So far as he is concerned, his very being here is a waste of time. From what he has seen, their mercenary company is vastly inferior in nearly every respect. Their supplies are in disarray, their funding poorly managed, and even their actual fighting second-rate. He can think of no reason why Greil would have him sent here. It is obvious enough that he has nothing to learn from them, and any implication that he did have would prove offensive.
However, Soren has never been one to disobey orders, and will keep his opinions silent for the duration of his stay here. The rest of the Greil Mercenaries would never believe it, blunt though he is with them. Not that he will ever admit the truth of this situation to them. That would mean admitting weakness - inefficiency and an inability to deal with the problem at hand. Soren would never admit such things.
Instead, he whiles away his time in the royal library, under the pretence of research. At least here, nestled amongst tomes heavier than he can carry, he is prominently aware that he is learning something. It is also silent here. Soren appreciates the moments of peace, spared at last from the brash arguments and activities commonplace at the mercenary hideout. He finds such behaviour yet more irritating when they are strangers, though he cannot think why. As if to purposely disturb him, there comes a loud clanging sound from nearby, and Soren looks up, distracted.
Outside the library, the noise is deafening. Screams and shrieks pierce the air that is already thundering with the sounds of hooves and footsteps. Soren is lost in the chaos the second he removes himself from the library. Between the crowds of frightened citizens, there are soldiers and cavalry encased in the black armour of Daein. He watches, detached from it all, as those who protest are silenced by swords. Soren ignores the deafening cries of those around him. He has no reason to either listen or care. Amongst the deluge of panicked civilians, Soren seizes the chance to leave without a second thought. Let their world crumble. It is not his.