Disclaimer:
Characters are property of Konami, and I'm just playing with them here because I didn't get enough of playing with them within the confines of the games.
Not a clue whether or not they've actually given a canon explanation of how these boys met and what they might have been up to before the Liberation Army. At the time I wrote this, they hadn't.

Initiation

Not like it would come as a surprise to anyone who knows us - we met in a pub.

It was the kind of pub that probably looked pretty lowbrow to anyone who didn't know the place. Full of rowdies, kind of dark, not really the cleanest. But it was big, lots of room at the bar, and the ale was good for the price we paid. And the guy behind the counter - I forget his name, if I ever knew it to begin with - didn't care if we tracked dirt in or knocked over the chairs or sang off-color songs. We were paying customers, every one of us - and we'd be paying him plenty, because we'd just finished another job.

We were beat, and we had money to burn while we kicked back and relaxed until another job came along. Some of the guys had already taken off in search of another boss, a couple had gotten picked up by a merchant headed towards Lenankamp. But there were plenty of us left who wanted to take a little time before we marched out again for whoever felt like lightening their purse the most.

I knew a lot of them by now, at least in the area. Not by name, really, or on any kind of a deep personal level of understanding, but I knew them well enough. Their faces, how they fought, which of them sang bawdy songs off-key after a few drinks. I had to coax that last part out of some of them by example, but now I knew.

I didn't know the guy sitting in the corner, though. Even after having tossed back a few mugs myself, I was pretty sure I would've recognized him if I'd ever seen him before. A lot of us mercs, we tend to look alike, with the scars and the attitude. And the mugs of ale. This guy, though, he didn't have any of that. He was sitting all by himself, mostly covered up with this blue cloak I doubt any of us would have worn - makes you stand out from the crowd to wear something like that, and when you're in our line of work, you don't really want to stand out. He looked younger, too. Not innocent, quite, if you looked in his eyes, but he had a boy's face, and probably couldn't have been over twenty. No ale for him, but a bottle of wine open on the table, and a cup in his hands.

I watched him for a while; he'd take a sip, stare down into it, raise his head a little and narrow his eyes at the rest of the room when someone got a little louder or more off-key than usual, then go back to staring into his drink. There was this almost aristocratic way he held his head, and I think that combined with the way he'd frown slightly at my crowd probably made him look a little arrogant.

But me, I was either too drunk to realize it, or not drunk enough to not see through it - to me, he just looked unhappy. And you know, I've never been the kind of guy to let someone drink alone.

He narrowed his eyes at me the same way when I stepped up to the table, just staring up at me with this defensive look. "Hey."

My greeting didn't exactly make him relax, and that slight frown he had got a little tighter. Not like he was annoyed, though - more like he was nervous. "...Do you want something?"

"Me? Nah." I grinned at him, trying to put him at ease. "Quite a crowd here, huh? How are you doing?"

He hesitated - he wasn't sure how to answer that, from the look on his face. Well, he didn't have to, as far as I was concerned, and something about him made me wonder if I was just bothering him - maybe he really did just want to be left alone. I kept grinning anyway. "Mind if I sit down?"

If he said yes, I figured I'd just nod and go on back to the bar, and that was probably what was going to happen. But after a second, he shook his head, gestured to the chair in front of me. Well, that was something. I took him at his word, and sat down across from him, setting down the mug of ale I'd brought over from the bar. "Are you hiring?" I asked him. No harm in talking business with him, it was a good way to open up. I'd seen the bulge of a sword beneath the cloak right away, of course, when I'd first taken note of him. But he didn't look like a merc - maybe he was some nobleman's son on a trip, and he'd hired some of my buddies as a guard. Or he wanted to. He didn't really look like the type of guy who would want to socialize with us, even if he was sitting here in the pub.

Again he shook his head, even looked a little surprised. "Me, hiring? Ah... no. I'm travelling alone." With that, he went back to staring into his drink.

I tilted my head curiously at him. It was honest curiosity, because he was one strange kid. "So you're no minor noble or anything... and you don't seem like the merchant type either. What do you do?"

And once again, he seemed like he didn't know how to answer that. It was a few seconds before he finally answered. "I don't really... do anything, at the moment. I'm just travelling."

"Yeah? Where are you headed?"

He frowned down into his drink and this time looked distinctly nervous. "...Nowhere in particular, really. Just travelling."

This wasn't really getting us anywhere. I mean, I was trying to be friendly, but he wasn't loosening up at all. Stalling while I tried to think of something else to say, I tipped back my mug, finishing off what was left of it.

I was saved - he continued before I'd set the mug back on the table. "...You're a mercenary, aren't you?"

That was better. I nodded. "Yep, just got done with a big job for Rockland - there was a gang of thieves running around causing problems in the area. We tracked 'em down, took 'em out. That's why this place is so busy right now - we've all got some potch to spend before we need to look for something else."

He was taking a sip from his glass now, and he nodded as he set it down again. "Sounds like a good deal."

So he decided I wasn't going to bite him after all. It made me relax some too, and I sat back in my chair, stretching a little. "It was a nice job, sure. Not that one's much different from another. You ever do any work?"

He shook his head. "I've been thinking maybe I should give it a try, though."

I squinted at him, not really knowing what to think of that. He had that look about him, like he was barely more than a kid. I just shrugged, though. "I saw you had a sword there... Are you any good with it?"

"I'm not bad."

He sounded so matter-of-fact that I chuckled, raising my mug as one of the barmaids passed by with a pitcher. "Pretty confident," I commented, dropping a few coins on her tray automatically as she moved on. "Is your weapon up to snuff?"

"I should hope so."

Again, pretty confident, and I wondered how much this kid really had seen when it came to battle. I mean, I hadn't been doing swordfighting all that long myself, even if I'd done plenty of wrestling and fistfighting with the neighbor kids when I was a boy, but... Well, I didn't want to think much about that - I'd been a merc for a couple years now, and seen plenty of real battles, and that was what counted. Plus, I'd learned a few ways to judge a man's ability. "Heh, mind if I take a look?" Technically we weren't supposed to bare steel inside the town - but in a crowd of mercenaries, the barkeep didn't care, so long as we weren't actually using them. Another reason I liked this place.

He froze at the question, his hand going almost protectively to the pommel where it stuck up beneath his cloak. "What," I asked, "you think I'm going to steal it?" I shook my head and gave him a grin. "I'm just curious. Come on - I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Slowly, he nodded, and when he obliged me, I felt kind of dumb for asking. I handed over Shiko - good steel, if nothing fancy, with a plain leather wrapping and straightforward hilt and pommel - and had a pretty damn incredible weapon handed to me in its place. This sword was really a piece of work. Black iron hilt, blue enameled detailing, a pommel that was either some kind of jewel or heavy blue glass polished enough to look like one. The blade was flawless, if a little finer than I'd go for, and just by holding it I could feel the balance. I'm not much for one-handed swords - like I tell people, I like a sword that's as much of a bastard as I am - but I figured even I could use this thing without thinking.

I let out a low whistle, checking over the blade. It was definitely used, and recently, too - that much was clear. Probably not to anyone who didn't know a fair amount about swords, though, because it had been well kept. "This is nice..."

"Thanks." He was looking over my sword with curiosity, if less awe than I had for his. From what I saw, he was looking in all the right places, and his response confirmed it. "You've got a nice blade yourself. A little old, and it could use some sharpening towards the tip, but looks like you've taken good care of it."

So he did know his way around a sword after all, I admitted as we traded our weapons back to their rightful owners. "Yeah, I was thinking I'd take a little of the money I got from this last job and see if I could find a good blacksmith. I don't really know one in this area, but maybe there's a well-kept secret."

"You never know," he agreed with a nod. "One of the best armorers I ever met was actually a town guard - he just had a hobby on the side."

"Hah, that's great." I couldn't help but feel a little smug - once again, I hit on the right topic to lighten someone up, without even knowing the guy this time. It's kind of a talent of mine. "Anyway," I continued, "pretty flashy sword you've got there. But sometimes things don't live up to appearances." Looking him over, he really didn't look like a merc at all, with that boyish face and the bright clothes. Kind of on the slim side, too, almost feminine. "You're going to have a rough time trying to make it in this kind of a career when you look so pretty and all, you know. You'll have to have some real skill - maybe to fend off the other mercs."

His eyes widened a little, and I winked at him. "Come on, I'm kidding you. But seriously," I told him, "looking and dressing like you do, people are going to think you want a high price. Which is good - if you're talented enough to deserve a high price. If not, you're just going to stick out, and that's not good."

He nodded. "That makes sense. I don't think it'll be a problem, though."

There he went again with that confidence. I don't really know whether it bugged me or just made me curious - but either way, the end result was the same. "...I'd like to see how you fight."

"Huh?"

I just had to chuckle again at the surprised look he gave me. "I'd like to see how you fight," I repeated. "Just to see what you've got. Want to step out back for a second?"

By now he just looked confused, and a little worried. "You want to fight me?"

"Not for real, kid - just sparring. Most of them don't just hire on good will, you know," I pointed out. "You'll have to show a prospective boss what you've got, so they don't end up wasting their time or money. So if you want to be a merc, think of this like a little rite of passage." I winked at him again. "And if you live up to that sword and that outfit, you're going to have to get used to people wanting to challenge you."

He still looked uneasy. "I guess that makes sense... Are you sure it's all right?"

"Oh yeah," I told him, waving towards the barkeep, "he gets so many of us through here, there's a spot out by the stables that's more or less set aside for a little swordplay." One more reason I liked this place. I took another long drink from my mug - it would probably be gone when I got back, so I might as well enjoy it before I had to buy another - and got up for the table, gesturing for the new guy to follow. "Come on, I'll show you."

There was already a pretty good crowd out there, seeing as we'd been there most of the afternoon and all evening. It was pitch black now, except for the lanterns a few men carried to illuminate the events. No one was hiring tonight, sure - but some of us did it just for fun, and there were a couple guys out in the clearing now circling each other, testing each other out, and a ring of a couple dozen more around to watch.

They knew me like I knew them by now, some of us by name even, and a few turned and grinned at the sight of me. "So who are you taking on tonight?"

"This kid," I told them, crooking a thumb over my shoulder towards the new guy. "I want to see if his fighting's as flashy as his outfit." There were a few laughs from the crowd, a lot of them cynical or knowing, and my sparring partner looked a little annoyed. He was going to have to get a handle on that ego, unless he was really good enough to back it up. Hell - if he was, he would probably get more grief.

The guys who'd turned to greet me turned again, as the fight they'd been watching started to heat up. I couldn't tell who it was in the near-darkness, but it looked like the smaller guy was outmatched. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the bigger guy, who was both stronger and faster, had him on the ground with a sword point at his throat, to a chorus of cheers and good-natured jeering from the crowd.

As he held out his hand to help the smaller guy up, I made my way through the assembled mercs to the center - there didn't seem to be anyone else waiting, so I gestured to the new guy again. "Come on out," I told him, shaking out my arms to loosen the muscles, and drawing my sword. "Or do you need some time to get ready?"

"I'm always ready." The way he said it wasn't arrogant, just matter-of-fact, and he drew his sword also, raising it to a battle-ready position as he stepped into the makeshift ring.

His stance wasn't like a mercenary's either - he stood tall and perfectly still, his weight on his back foot. Pretty much the opposite of mine; I had dropped down, keeping my center of balance low, and was bouncing a little as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Already I could feel the rush of battle, and I nodded to him. "Then show me what you've got."

He showed me, and in spades. Like a whirlwind, he leapt forward, blade flying, and it was all I could do to block the series of blows he levelled at me. It wasn't as if he was just flailing wildly, either - each swing of his sword was precise and methodical. Not only was he skilled, but he was fast, too.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the guys around us cheering or exclaiming surprise, but I didn't really have any time to think about it - I was too busy trying not to get hit. He even forced me to give up a little ground before I took a chance and shot back with a swing of my own. He seemed to have a pattern going, and just as I thought, I disrupted it enough that he had to pause in his attacking for a moment.

That opened up enough time for me to come back with a few attacks of my own, driving him back a little. He blocked with the same kind of precision he attacked with, and pretty soon we'd settled into a routine of attacking and blocking and countering and feinting. His form was perfect, every move he made as if he'd planned it from the start, but that wasn't the kind of swordfighting I did - I just held onto the sword for all I had, and let my instincts take over.

That was what did him in eventually, when I took advantage of ducking one of his higher swings to hook a foot around his closer ankle and yank. His weight was still on his back foot, so I didn't completely trip him, but it threw him off long enough for me to swipe upwards, hard. That fancy sword of his went flying end over end.

A cheer went up from the crowd, even as a couple of them stepped aside to avoid the errant weapon. He looked completely shocked, and I grinned and held out a hand to him. "Nice match. Everything okay?"

He took my hand after a moment's pause, but his eyes narrowed in frustration. "That's hardly what I'd call fair."

"Oh? Why not?"

"You're not supposed to fight like that when it's a sword battle."

"Yeah, well, tell that to your enemy." I was breathing hard, and I leaned forward on the hilt of my sword to rest as I smirked up at him. "Mercenary work isn't some kind of noble duel where people always play by the rules. It's combat, not swordplay. There are guys you'll come up against who'll kick you between the legs then bash your skull in while you're sobbing, if you give them an opening."

The guy who'd happened to catch the sword as it flew towards him was holding it under another man's lantern, and those around it were examining it with interest. "Hey Harin, don't get too attached to that," I called to him. "It's already got an owner."

I got a few more laughs for that, and held up my hand to catch the sword as Harin tossed it to me. "So, you think you can deal with that?" I asked the new guy as I handed him back his weapon.

"Sure I can." He still looked frustrated though, as he checked over his weapon and sheathed it. "I should point out that I've had a few drinks tonight."

"Big deal, so have I." In all honesty, though, I wasn't as smug as I was letting on. This kid was good, if a little naive. And it wasn't too hard to tell he was holding back, either - he didn't want to accidentally hurt me. If we'd been battling it out for real, there was a pretty good chance I'd have lost, if I hadn't gotten to use that trick of mine to catch him off-guard first.

He looked more bothered than he should have, really, and for a second I wondered if his ego really was so big that a simple merc like me beating him had really been an insult. It was a second before I recognized the self-conscious way he was carrying himself as we pushed our way back through the crowd towards the pub, making way for whoever wanted to fight next. "Hey, you did good," I assured him, resting my hand on his shoulder lightly. "So they were cheering for me - that's because they know me, and they don't know you. If you stick around, they'll be cheering you on like nobody's business. They're good guys, you know."

"I don't - that's sort of the point." He smiled a little, though. "...Thanks."

"So," I asked as we passed through the back door into the pub, "do you think you'll stick around?"

He considered for a moment. "How much does it pay?"

"Well, it depends on who's paying, and how much they think you're worth." I paused, and he paused with me as I looked him over critically. "You could be worth a lot, I think - you've got some real talent. And you know," I added with a smirk, "if you stick to me as your sparring partner when they're looking at the recruits, I could make you look good - no dirty tricks, just straight sword-fighting, till you get used to the way we fight."

"Hmm... that's not really honest, is it?"

I shrugged, and motioned him on past the bar. "Big deal - you'll learn as you work. Pretty soon it won't make any difference. Of course," I pointed out, "if you're concerned about moral stuff, honesty and all, I don't know if this is the best idea. Sometimes people want to hire you for things you don't really agree with... but the coin's the same as anyone else's."

He looked thoughtful, a little uncertain again, but nodded. "And I wouldn't have to take any job, right? If the pay's good enough..."

"It's good if you need to make a quick buck. Of course," I added with a smirk, "with a face like yours, bet you could make that kind of money a lot quicker."

Okay, so I was just drunk enough to tease a guy I'd only just met. At least he took it well - just widened his eyes and blushed slightly. Which proved my point, really, but I figured I'd said enough on the subject already. "So, want me to show you the ropes?"

That was when he gave me the first real shock he ever gave me - he raised an eyebrow curiously. "You mean about being a mercenary? Or... the other thing?"

...He couldn't possibly be serious. I blinked, then noticed the corner of his mouth just beginning to sneak up into a smirk. "Cute, kid, real cute."

This time he smiled for real. "Anyway, thanks... I think maybe I'll take you up on that."

"Great." I couldn't resist teasing him a little more. "So what do you know, finally I pick up a pretty face in a pub."

He looked surprised as much as embarrassed. "You've never picked up a girl in a pub?"

I shrugged. "That a problem?"

"Well, no..." he muttered as we passed by the corner table we'd been sitting at before. There was another man sitting there now, drinking from the mug I'd left behind. He hadn't touched the wine bottle, from all appearances, so I reached over his head and tossed it to the new guy. He caught it easily. "...You just look... rough. Like the type of guy who'd do something like that all the time."

"Hey, don't give me that," I told him with a mock frown, taking my still half-full mug from the seated man's hand and emptying it over his balding head without skipping a beat. "I'm a gentleman."

He laughed softly, and held out his hand. "By the way, my name's Flik."

"Viktor," I told him, accepting the offered hand and shaking it firmly. "You know, Flik, I think you and I are going to work well together..."