After the destruction of Ishval, the man was left with a child trailing after him, hiding in his shadow as he traversed the Amestrian territories. He never told you his name, too selfish to place the responsibility of another life upon his shoulders again, but you stayed by his side through all kinds of weather, like a persistent thorn just out of his reach.

You were a proud child, standing tall despite the horrors you must have faced in the war you grew up with. The man, despite his reluctance, came to grow fond of you, like a father would his child (or a brother would his sibling), and, despite his defensive walls, let you weasel into an empty place in his heart.

He almost thought he had let you in too close when he noticed you were acting more down than usual. You were quiet, drawn-back, and your eyes were laced with guilt — not an unusual expression for a survivor, but an unusual expression for you.

"There is something wrong," he said over the campfire, when the sun had set and the night had risen. The flames danced and flickered, reflecting in the scarlet of your eyes when you curled into yourself.

You old him about your thoughts — about your feelings. That you felt as if you were not born in the right body, that your physical self was not aligned with whom you truly were — and you told him that it scared you.

Because God made no mistakes. A creation of God could not be improved upon, you told him in a quiet, broken voice.

The man sat quiet and listened, and when you were done — with unshed tears of guilt glistening in your eyes — he handed you a self-carved wooden bowl filled with mushroom stew.

"God makes no mistakes," he said slowly, making a bowl for himself. "He made no mistake when your mother gave life to you. He made no mistake when He created you in His image. And He made no mistake when He shaped your spirit."

He stirs the stew slowly, pressing his lips together.

"That you feel like this — it was no mistake either," he said. "God shaped your spirit with all of your traits in mind — including your nonconformity to what He has created prior to you. You are not a mistake."