Quick Intro

Welcome to my spin on FE:7. I've always loved the game, and it sort of birthed my First Love and original character, Amberyl. I promise she's not a Mary Sue. Maybe a Mary Tzu, but that's kind of necessary.

I don't promise a strong update schedule (because "life"), but I'll publish more eventually. Mainly because I've been working on one version or another of this telling for years *shamefacedly* and I figure that sharing it will only encourage me.

I hope :l

Anyway. Enjoy.

Amberyl had overslept. Sunlight filtered through a covered window, illuminating the small room with a warm red glow. Amberyl squinted unfocused eyes against this too-bright intrusion, wondering what happened the night before to make her feel like she went on a week-long drinking spree. That was supposing that she hadn't actually gone on a week-long drinking spree.

"Are you awake?"

The words echoed in Amberyl's head. She groaned, covering her ears while she searched for the speaker. Saints, she was dizzy.

"What happened?" She slurred. Oh, great. Maybe it was one of those days. She would get a royal chewing back at the citadel, but it was nice to know her situation was nothing if not mundane.

"I found you unconscious on the plains." A beautiful face swam into view, a strong female countenance with bright eyes and a distinctly Sacaen mien. Definitely not a face Amberyl recognized. She blinked slowly as the Sacaen woman leaned over her. "I am Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now."

"Err." Amberyl took a moment to digest the incredible claim. Her gaze skittered sideways, taking in the bright tapestries that didn't quite obscure the latticework frame which gave the room its circular shape. That seemed… oddly in line with a nomadic ger.

"Who are you?" Lyn asked.

Amberyl raised herself to her elbows, suddenly and dreadfully uneasy. She promptly sank back to her pillow when the world exploded into a picture pallet of multi-shaded reds. It took several moments for the pounding in her head to subside so that Amberyl could form a coherent thought. What an amazing thing. Amberyl began to suspect that she had bumped her head. Hard. She searched her hair with her fingers and was unsurprised to find a heavy swath of bandages.

"That explains things." Only it didn't really. It explained why there was no explanation. Not one she could recall, anyway. Amberyl glanced around the room again, searching for some clue that might enlighten her as to what she was doing on the nomadic plains of Sacae. An ornate chest and some richly crafted furniture gave her nothing to work with.

The nomad would not be deterred. "Can you remember your name?" she pressed. Amberyl brought her eyes back to Lyn and tried to look… pitiful? Wary? Thankful? Ugh. She was utterly unprepared for this interaction. The faintest crease appeared between Lyn's brows as Amberyl hesitated to respond. Get a grip. This is Sacae, not Ositia, Amberyl berated herself.

"Amberyl." Short and clipped, enough to make her sound like a wary wanderer. The defensive type who was suspicious of nosy rescuers. That was a story Amberyl could live with.

"Your name is Amberyl?" Lyn repeated, her brows raising. Her eyes grew thoughtful. "What an odd sounding name."

"Well, excuse me for being odd," Amberyl sniffed, only it came out as more of a painful wheeze as she made a second attempt to sit up. Two strong hands support her along the way. The sights and sounds of the world dimmed, but this time Amberyl grit her teeth and pushed through it.

"But pay me no mind," Lyn said. "It is a good name."

Amberyl held her silence, hoping Lyn would give her something more with which to fabricate a good story. Then she frowned, having just confused herself. Why would she need a good story? And she'd had that same thought a moment before, as well.

"I see by your attire that you're a traveler. What brings you to the Sacae Plains? Would you share your story with me?"

"My story?" Amberyl repeated dully, sounded disoriented even to her own ears. Her thoughts were slippery, like little fishes that slithered around underwater with zero interest in listening to her internal commands to shape up and sit still so she could use them. Fish? I try to sort out my thoughts, and I get fish? "Hang on. I… I'm dizzy."

"Okay." Lyn sat back, patient. She politely decided not to press, but she didn't go anywhere, either. Instead, she poured Amberyl a cup of water, crossed the small room to a hand-crafted wooden chair and began to sew. It looked like she was resuming a project Amberyl's awakening had interrupted. Amberyl had the distinct impression that this Lyn had either been tasked to watch her for some reason, or she simply had nothing better to do than patch some cloth while Amberyl sat in silence. What would you prefer, an armed interrogation? Amberyl flicked that thought away to pursue the more important task of exploring what events she could leading up to her present situation.

She sipped her water quietly while bringing her thoughts to bear. Head trauma, memory loss, Sacaen Plains. That pretty much summed it up, but Amberyl couldn't begin to put together a plan of action with which to proceed from that point. It was time to ask a few questions of her own. She raised her head, feeling much more in control of her vertigo. Lyn's fingers flicked with experience over the colorful cloth in her lap, her brow gently furrowed in concentration. Amberyl opened her mouth to speak when she noticed a long, curved sword propped up in its sheathe against the chest by Lyn's chair.

"Great."

"Pardon?" Lyn's eyes came up, and the needlework went down.

Amberyl shook her head and bent her head over her cup, conscious not to look at the sword again. Dare she reveal that she had no memory of how she got here? Was Lyn a danger to her? Amberyl didn't get that impression from the bright eyes or the sincerity of her concern, but then, she had a concussion. Maybe she shouldn't be trusting her instincts for sound judgment just yet. Amberyl drummed her fingers around her cup, studying it's now empty state. Speaking of thoughtless decisions, she hadn't even considered the possibility that what she'd just consumed hadn't been pure water. Amberyl sighed, a mounting pressure building somewhere in the region between her eyes.

"I can't remember how I got here."

Lyn blinked, then leaned back with a small 'oh' shape to her lips.

"You did look like you took a nasty blow to the head," Lyn said. "Although I can't imagine how. Yours were the only tracks I saw, and there weren't even any rocks to fall on."

"That's just my luck. I think." Amberyl gripped the cup in her hands more tightly. Okay, so she couldn't remember getting hit. And she couldn't remember riding or walking out to the plains for any reason, business or otherwise. But she should be able to remember something from before then. Amberyl thought back to... hmm. Midnight under a new moon, apparently. It can't all be gone, she thought with a sinking feeling. Yet the more she concentrated on backtracking her memories, the more they skittered out of her reach. Significant events seemed sure of their place, right up until she reached for their recollection. Then they fizzled. Panic quickened Amberyl's pulse, causing her head to start to ache.

"Calm down. It's not all gone. You still know how to talk."

"I'm sorry?" Lyn asked, puzzled.

"Nothing. I have a habit of talking to myself when I start to get nervous." Amberyl paused. "Apparently."

"Am I making you nervous?"

"Yes," Amberyl admitted, realizing she had no idea what to do. She looked helplessly at Lyn. "You have a sword. I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't... I don't remember anything."

"So you said," Lyn tilted her head.

"But I mean I really don't remember anything. Like where I came from, or whether I have any brothers or sisters. Oh, Saints. It is all gone. Mother, I - It wasn't when I woke up. I knew my name." A detached part of her recognized that her voice was rising into a shrill register. She was babbling. "I said my name was Amberyl. I - I... I think I'm going to be sick." Amberyl lurched from the bed, looking for some place better to deposit the contents of her stomach than her own lap. Or Lyn's floor, for that matter. No need to be rude.

Lyn intercepted Amberyl as she nearly tumbled head long into the wall. "Let's get you outside," she said calmly.

"Please." Despite overwhelming nausea and dizziness, Amberyl did not vomit up her lunch. Or breakfast, as the case may have been. Which meant, she realized as she wiped at her mouth where little dribbles of saliva and snot dripped down from repeated attempts at vomiting, that she couldn't even use that as a hint. She began to laugh weakly.

"This is really happening." Amberyl turned in a circle. Endless grass hills rolled out before her in waving green strands blown sharply by the wind, covering the earth for every step between her and the nearby trees, far-off trees, and one shape that could have been a nomadic gers like Lyn's. What on earth was she doing out here? And then, when her teeth began to chatter, what on earth was she doing out here? She looked down to discover she was wearing - well, a long shirt. A long shirt that could be called a dress, if one allowed for night-dresses to be added to the equation.

"It's cold," she observed brilliantly.

"Your clothes had blood on them," Lyn explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not in that case." Satisfied that she wasn't going to vomit, Amberyl retraced her steps to enter the shelter of Lyn's little hut. Lyn began to follow, but hesitated at the door.

"What was that noise?"

Amberyl hear nothing, but then she was still distracted by the apparent deletion of her life. And three minutes of kind-of dry heaving. "I didn't hear anything."

Lyn shook her head. "I'll go see what's happening. Amberyl, wait here for me."

Amberyl sat on the edge of the bed, considering tucking back under the covers. Maybe if she went back to sleep, and tried waking up the normal way instead of the she-went-to-bed-with-a-bump-on-her-head kind of way, this whole situation would clear up. Or go away. Wishful thinking, she sighed. Deciding to sit and wait as Lyn directed, Amberyl cast her eyes around the room for her cloak at least, folding her arms across her breasts with her hands tucked against her sides. Oh, boy. If she rocked, she could bring back the nausea. "Hurray, me."

"Bandits!"

Amberyl whipped her head up, raising her hands to ward off the shock. Had she started to doze off? Oh - Any memories? No? Curses.

"They must have come down from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages!" Lyn took two hurried steps in one direction, then changed her mind and backtracked the opposite way before taking a calming breath and standing still. Her eyes closed briefly, and when they opened they focused on her sword by the door. "I... I have to stop them! If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own." She turned to Amberyl. "You'll be safe in here, Amberyl."

"Safe? What?" Lyn was going to run outside and fight bandits? That sounded like a singularly terrible idea. She couldn't have been any older than Amberyl herself, which meant it was highly unlikely she had the years of battle experience that crafted the heroes of legend. She might be competent, even dangerous, but Amberyl wouldn't care to bet on a single swordsman against a multitude of bandits unless she was a no-kidding swordmaster. "You can't go out there alone."

"What? You want to help?"

"Ehm." she and Lyn were thinking on different wave-lengths. She didn't want either of them going out there. But could she stop Lyn? There was a fire in the nomad girl's eyes that Amberyl recognized. Lyn was already committed. Amberyl gave herself a mental shake. How could she know that? She found herself frowning. If Amberyl looked closely, she could read Lyn's body language like a book. Rigid posture, a white-knuckled grip on the handle of her sword, the sheathe of which now hung secured by a belt at her waist. From the pull of her brow and the quick pace of her breath to the nervous jitter that suddenly infected one finger on her left hand, everything about the nomad screamed "Battle!" Lyn might not be eager to fight the bandits, but she was determined to do so to the last.

"Yes. I want to help," Amberyl found herself saying. For some reason I don't understand, she added silently.

"Well," Lyn seemed skeptical. "Can you use a weapon?"

"I don't know," Amberyl admitted. "I could definitely hold one and look like I knew how to use it, though. That could at least draw some of the attention from you."

"That's a horrible idea," Lyn breathed. "You'd get cut down."

"No, I'd run away. It's a flawless plan." Amberyl hatched upon an idea. "And I can plan. I might not be a blade master, but I can think of strategies in a pinch." A bold-faced lie - or at least an unconfirmed truth - but somehow Amberyl didn't think Lyn was going to let her accompany her outside unless she pitched her story just right. Not when she was lying comatose in Lyn's bed for ten minutes ago. Now, why she was trying to follow Lyn outside to fight bandits in the first place was another mystery. Because she's taking care of you when you're as vulnerable as you've ever been.

"Something you've remembered?" Lyn asked.

"Something I know. Now if you have my cloths..."

Lyn glanced at her and laughed, quickly retrieving Amberyl's personal artifacts. "I think you'd be more distracting if you just wore that," Lyn countered.

"Your flattery will get you nowhere, I'm far too practical. I think." Amberyl donned her leggings and boots in record time, and flung her cloak around her shoulders. She was all earthen tones for this sortie, she noticed. That would be good for getting away, if she had to hide. In all that endless expanse of green, green grass. Nevermind.

Lyn held out a belt and dagger for Amberyl's acceptance. For a brief moment, Amberyl wondered where the nomad had come across the six inch blade, it's mahogany handle emblazoned with an unknown crest. Then she realized that the knife must actually belong to her. Amberyl sighed as she strapped the belt around her hips with distant familiarity, slipping the dagger into a hard leather sheathe that now rested on her hip. No wonder Lyn still had to ask if she could use a weapon. A knife like this was more a fashion accessory than anything. Amberyl paused, considering herself.

"Well. I do have good taste."

"Are you ready?"

"If I said 'no', do we get to stay inside?"

Lyn's eyes slid upward to the bandage wrapped around Amberyl's head. No doubt she was already considering the folly of bringing her along. Amberyl didn't have to make it worse by suggesting she didn't want to go. Only, she didn't really want to. But you will anyway, for a perfect stranger. Was this really who she was? How was she not dead yet? Amberyl shook her head to clear the thought before she gave herself an ache. "Sorry, just injecting some levity. Let's ride."

"We're not riding."

"It's an expression, Lyn."

"If you want to help, Amberyl, I could use your advice." Lyn's long strides carried her across the open hills quickly as the two of them jogged away from the safety of her hut. Amberyl found that she could keep pace with Lyn easily enough, though she couldn't match Lyn's loping gait and used at least twice as many steps to cover the same amount of ground. "I'll protect you, so stay close to me."

"I think I can manage that." As long as she was going to do something as foolish as run towards a group of armed brigands, it was probably a wise decision to stay next to the girl with the sword. "You're confident in your swordsmanship, I hope?"

"Yes." Lyn said simply.

Hmm. Perhaps an open ended question would have been a better choice of inquiry. Not that there was time to do anything with that information, were it forthcoming. In fact, Amberyl's reason for coming along as a planner - a tactician, really - fell flat considering it was just her and Lyn against an unknown number of bandits in an open field. Maybe if she had more than one unit to command, she could justify her presence on the field of battle. Or if there was some terrain other than open grassland that they could use to their advantage.

"But there is," Amberyl muttered. She raised her voice to combat the wind. "Lyn, let's head north towards the trees." Amberyl pointed towards the tree line some distance away. "If we can draw some of the bandits in there, that'd be much better than facing them in an open field where we could get surrounded, don't you think?"

"Some of?" Lyn repeated, though she did angle towards the trees instead of the huts. "I hope there aren't that many. I only saw two. I don't think I could take many more by myself."

"Just two?" Amberyl felt a rush of relief, despite Lyn's disclaimer that there might be more. In the back of her mind, Amberyl had been imagining hordes of filthy axemen, the likes of which she was disinclined to meet so ill prepared. Two bandits was a problem she felt she could hold in both hands. Even four wouldn't be so bad, but that was pushing it. "And who's by herself? I'm not chopped liver."

"Sorry."

Since part of this plan involved being spotted and chased into the trees, Amberyl searched the horizon for likely suspects for her hastily conceived trap. She spotted one burly looking fellow eyeing them from several hundred feet away, and another loitering twice that distance by the small ger Amberyl had noticed earlier.

Hmm. These nomad types must not like company that much. It occurred to Amberyl that Lyn's little living space was in no way near or adjacent to any other civilization. That dot of a hut in the distance was literally the nearest sign of habitation, and the only one that Amberyl could see. What on earth was I doing out in this empty plain? Then, after a heartbeat, And what on earth is Lyn?

Those two bandits tallied with the two that Lyn had seen, and unless there was a nearby rabbit hole large enough to conceal a man, something Amberyl berated herself for even considering, they were all she and Lyn had to contend with. The first man appeared to be a lookout, standing watch to ensure that no young nomad girls with swords and amnesiac companions snuck up on his cohorts to thwart their looting, no doubt. That, or he'd fallen behind his comrade on their trip to ransack Lyn's neighbor. He eyed them with an intensity Amberyl could feel despite distance between them.

the lookout's apparent reluctance to leave his post gave Amberyl and Lyn a few minutes to work with, but would ultimately thwart their plan entirely if it prevented him from chasing them. little good it would do anyone if she and Lyn didn't fight the bandits until after they completed their plundering.

"Wait up, Lyn." Amberyl veered towards the bandit for several steps, planted her heel and spun around. "Come on, you big ape! Come and get me!" she called over her shoulder as she waggled her butt at him. She doubted if he'd be able to hear her taunt, but the message behind her visual aid would have been clear over even a much greater distance. She waved cheerfully at his confusion and hurried after Lyn, who had paused to let her catch up.

"I think that worked." Lyn sounded surprised. And so it had. The bandit lurched in their direction, bellowing something lost to the wind. It was a miracle Lyn had heard anything to warn her of the bandit attack in the first place, Amberyl decided.

They hit the tree line, and Amberyl immediately bent over double and sucked in deep breaths to combat an encroaching dizziness. Lyn glanced over at her.

"I should have drank more water," Amberyl panted, stumbling further into the trees. She was probably severely dehydrated from bleeding, she realized. Head wounds were always the vilest of bleeders, and she had given herself no time to recover. Suddenly, running away from bandits as her first line of defense seemed like an ill-conceived plan. Her head was starting to pound in time with her heartbeat. The problem with dehydration, Amberyl decided, was that the first few minutes of exertion deceived you into thinking you were okay. Then it hits you like a brick wall. And then, Why do I know that? Is there some sort of rule that only allows me to remember useless information?

"Lyn, I'm going to rely on you to take care of this guy while I try not to pass out, okay?"

"Rest," Lyn instructed her firmly. "This was my task from the start."

Amberyl nodded, and found a thick trunk to hide behind. Reluctant to leave Lyn completely alone, she chose one close enough where she could dash in at any time to give the bandit a nasty surprise if he wasn't prepared. But then, since he'd seen them both she couldn't expect a sneak attack to work. Perhaps she should find some rocks to throw as distractions. The kind of distraction that could leave a person amnesiac, even. Bludgeoning someone else into memory loss seemed like a good way to vent her own frustration, and a bandit would be the perfect choice for guilt-free victimization.

One hulking, burly bandit crashed into the underbrush moments later. He was huge, but girthy. Amberyl's fear receded when she considered Lyn's lithe form and quick steps. The bandit brandished a large axe and began to stalk the trees, muttering to himself. He must suspect he'd walked into a trap. any intelligent person would have known that right from Amberyl's taunting, but this man was apparently not graced with excessive smarts.

Lyn's attack wasn't immediate, but when it came it flashed like lightning. Lyn sprang from a shadow, ducking beneath the bandit's axe to attack his chest. The man collapsed instantly, a quiet grunt marking his passage from this world to the next. Amberyl blinked as she watched him slump lifeless to the earth.

Saints, she just helped plan that man's death. Amberyl felt a surge of dizziness.

"Amberyl? it's safe to come out now." Lyn wiped her sword clean on the back of the bandit's tunic. Amberyl hesitated, pressing her forehead against the bark of her hiding tree while she gathered herself. Was it just light headedness making her feel nauseous, or was that what happened when you participated in killing someone? And if she was affected, saints only knew how Lyn felt.

"I'm here." Amberyl swept from her hiding place and made her way towards Lyn. She peered intently at Lyn's face as she approached. "are you okay?"

"me?" Lyn seemed surprised. she glanced at the body at her feet. "Yes, of course. Seeking the trees for cover was an excellent idea."

Amberyl shook her head - then pressed at her temples to suppress the resulting headache. "That's not what I meant."

Lyn seemed to understand Amberyl's concern. a shadow passed briefly over her face, but she reached out to touch Amberyl's arm. "I'm fine. I..." Lyn trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished, then led them out of the trees and toward the other bandit. "We'll talk after we settle this."

"Okay." Amberyl trotted after her. "If you're sure."

As the ger drew closer, the remaining bandit's scowling face came into definition. he would have seen his friend chase them into the trees, and there was little ambiguity about their reemergence and his disappearing. Amberyl sidled up behind Lyn, feeling light headed and winded, despite Lyn's slowing their pace as they crossed the plains from the distant trees.

"Do you see anyone besides the bad guy?"

"No. They must be hiding."

"Maybe." Amberyl didn't like the thought of someone hiding away, forcing Lyn to rescue them. What would they have done if Lyn never noticed the bandits? Sit back and let the ransacking happen? Maybe they're out hunting, Amberyl thought. That would fit with a nomadic society. Or maybe the occupant was already hurt, or was too young to fight, or was a pregnant mother. Oh, the possibilities were endless.

"Who do you think you are?" the bandit's voice was filled with rage.

Amberyl started. For some reason, she hadn't expected to engage in rational speech with the enemy. It made him seem... human.

"You think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?"

Amberyl looked at Lyn. She was a slight figure in comparison to the axe-toting villain she was about to duel. but there was confidence in her stance, and she didn't bat an eyelash before her response.

"Leave these people alone, and never come back. If you go now, I will let you live."

Batta the Beast threw back his head with a shout of laughter, then flung himself forward to attack. It was then that Amberyl realized she had come much too close to this fight for comfort. There was no cover this time, and she suddenly doubted her ability to outrun this savage man. Especially when her first backpedalling steps failed to keep pace with her flailing upper body, and she tumbled head over heels backwards in the grass.

When she righted herself, she discovered that Lyn and the bandit had switched places. Lyn was farther away, and Batta the Beast stood between them. She panicked until she saw that Batta sported a stream of blood over his thigh issuing from his chest. Then she cried out in horror to see Lyn staggering back with her left arm clinched against her body, the same crimson liquid dripping from the tips of her fingers. Lyn looked stunned.

"Lyn!" Amberyl scrambled to her feet, her fingers searching for the dagger at her hip. Batta ignored her, stepping towards Lyn with the intent to finish what he'd started. The dagger left Amberyl's hands before she realized what she was doing. it sailed through the air and struck the bandit pommel first in the center of his back. Surprised, he turned and glanced at the dagger on the ground. Amberyl could determine the precise moment when he categorized her as a threat and decided to get rid of her first.

"Stay where you are," she warned, pitching her hand back as if to throw another knife. the bandit flinched, but quickly realized her bluff. he growled something uncomplimentary and advanced.

The thought that Amberyl, now unarmed, was perhaps not his most dangerous opponent penetrated his mind too late. Lyn's sword flashed through Batta's neck as he craned his head around to find her. Lifeless, Batta the beast dropped to the earth.

Amberyl briefly considered dissolving into a girly puddle of hiccups and sobs. Then she remembered that Lyn was bleeding, and promised herself she would do that later.

"Are you hurt?" she asked stupidly. "Of course you are. You're bleeding. Let me see. Do you have bandages in your house? Of course you do, I'm wearing one on my head. But this house is closer. We'll ask them for some. Okay. Alright." Amberyl forced herself to take a breath. Lyn, bending over the fallen bandit's body, retrieved Amberyl's dagger and handed it to her with a small smile. She didn't seem overly concerned that her arm was dripping rivulets of blood into the grass. Amberyl couldn't relate.

"Good work, Amberyl." Lyn said tiredly. "Let's go home."

"Yes." Hic. "Let's." but not before she ransacked the - unoccupied - ger for some bandaging cloth.

"Good morning, Amberyl!" Lyn's lifted Amberyl from that pleasant place where she wasn't quite asleep, but hadn't fully woken up. "Are you awake yet?"

"No. Wait, yes." the smell of simmering stew changed her mind. She rolled halfway off the bed before she ran out of energy and draped limply over the side. "Ugh."

"The fight yesterday must have taken a lot out of you," Lyn teased. She lifted the pot away from its flame and set it down to cool.

"For some unimaginable reason, it did," Amberyl murmured. She had all but collapsed onto the bed after setting foot inside Lyn's home.

Amberyl propped her head up to watch the graceful nomad. A thin bandage wrap covered Lyn's upper arm, but her movements seemed unhindered as she flitted around completing her morning chores. Amberyl was impressed with the way she shrugged off an axe bite like it was nothing. It had been a near miss, the type of laceration that was made when a pointed object dragged deeply across the skin. Not a smooth slice, but more of a ragged cut. Still, the generous application of vulnery salve she'd smoothed over the wound would have made quick work of its recovery. She hadn't realized Lyn had been carrying some when they'd left, and the knowledge of the healing salve was thankfully something that hadn't been lost to her.

That being said, Amberyl was even more impressed that Lyn seemed unaffected by her entire life-threatening experience yesterday altogether. "You did all the fighting. I just tagged along."

Lyn smiled in response, but her look grew pensive. She retrieved two bowls and dished a serving of the delicious looking stew for each of them. Amberyl fell upon hers with all the enthusiasm of a woman deprived of supper the night before. in fact, this may have been the first meal she'd had in days, Amberyl reflected. Her dry heaving left an impression.

"Say, Amberyl," Lyn began slowly, her bowl untouched. She turned her clear eyes on Amberyl, the pensive haze now gone. Amberyl paused her spoon, clueing in on the fact that Lyn was about to say something important.

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure," Amberyl said hesitantly. She hardly knew this nomad, and Lyn hardly knew her. What could this possibly be about?

"You have some experience in the ways of ware, I can see. Would you allow me to travel with you?"

Amberyl's lips, opened in preparation to contradict the first part of Lyn's statement, remained parted in surprise.

"Travel with me?" She repeated. "What about your parents, your family?" Amberyl meant to ask the question to give herself a moment to think, but she had been wondering where the rest of Lyn's tribe was since she'd seen the empty grassland surrounding Lyn's home yesterday. "Surely you have someone else to discuss this with first?"

"What?" Lyn blinked. "You... you want me to get permission from my parents?"

"Well, no, I..." Amberyl trailed off. Repeated back to her, the idea sounded silly. But was Lyn really contemplating leaving her people, her family, on a whim? With someone she didn't even know, whose destination neither she nor Amberyl herself decided? Amberyl's eyes narrowed and her understanding clicked at the same moment Lyn's face fell.

"My mother and my father... died six months ago," Lyn said, confirming Amberyl's suspicion, and she felt a well of sympathy rise up for the nomad girl.

"My people - the Lorca - they don't..." Lyn took a ragged breath, overwhelmed with remembered emotion. "I'm the last of my tribe."

Amberyl inhaled quietly. Lyn had been surviving alone on the plains for six months, with bandits roving unchecked through its expanse? She was surprised Lyn had even survived.

Lyn continued in a low voice, her eyes distant as she was drawn into memory. "Bandits attacked, and... They killed so many people. The tribe was scattered. My father was our chieftain, and I wanted to protect our people. But I'm so young, and our people were old-fashioned." Lyn's hands curled into fists. She lifted her face to the ceiling, and Amberyl wasn't sure the next words were addressed to her.

"They wouldn't follow a woman. No one would follow me."

She fell silent, tears now trailing down the sides of her upturned face to run along her chin. Amberyl felt frozen. Lyn had just shared the type of experience that was too painful to hold onto, but too precious to let go. She wasn't entirely sure what to do. Eventually, she reached across the intervening space to put her hand over Lyn's. Lyn started, surprised. She wiped her face, sniffing.

"I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long." She turned her hand so Amberyl's fingers rested in her palm and trapped them there gently. Her other hand covered her eyes.

"No. No more. I will shed no more tears."

Amberyl looked at Lyn's hidden face, then her own trapped hand. And then as the silence stretched, she found her gaze wandering, perhaps insensitively, to her stew. She pinched herself by way of punishment.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that alone, Lyn," Amberyl said.

"Thank you." Lyn said simply, uncovering her face. "I'm better now." True to her word, her tears had stopped. She did look a little bit red-eyed, though, but Amberyl wasn't going to say anything.

"Amberyl, I want - I must become stronger, so that I may avenge my father's death!" Lyn rose with a passion, coming perilously close to upending her untouched breakfast. "Yesterday's battle taught me something. I won't become stronger by sitting here alone. Amberyl, tell me you'll train me, that you'll let me travel with you!"

Amberyl made a little surprised 'oh' with her lips, regarding Lyn carefully. This wasn't a light request, and Amberyl was afraid that it was based entirely on a misunderstanding. She didn't have any experience with war. Or at least if she did, she didn't remember any of it. She had been running on instinct yesterday, from the half-truth that she could be useful as a tactician to her half-baked plan to distract Batta the Beast so Lyn had a better chance at defeating him. There was something, she admitted, that felt natural about reading the flow of battle, but that hardly meant she was worthy to lead Lyn around for training.

Amberyl pursed her lips. Sooner or later, she would remember who she was, and what she was doing in Sacae. But she had no idea how quickly that would happen. She couldn't wait around indefinitely for something to stir her recollection, but neither could she wander blindly into the grasslands and trust her luck to keep her safe. That Lyn would decide to leave with her, and go forth into the world as Amberyl - traveled? searched? wandered? - was the only way Amberyl was ever going to leave.

You're going to feel awful if something happens to her because you're not who she thinks you are, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind said. What do you know about warfare and bloodshed? You got squeamish at the thought of killing a bandit. Amberyl suppressed a shudder as she remembered the fighting yesterday. No matter how guilty the brigands had been, it wasn't a pleasant feeling to watch them die. But...

I could do it again, Amberyl told herself silently. And I would, if I had the chance. Doing what's right doesn't have to be pleasant.

Especially if you're not the one who's doing it, the nasty voice said.

Amberyl crammed the nasty voice away in an imaginary soundproof box. "Yes, Lyn. I think that would be an excellent idea."

"You will?" Lyn's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Suddenly Amberyl was swept up in Lyn's embrace. She squeaked in protest, thinking that Lyn was getting carried away. Probably because her own doubts undermined any excitement she might have felt at pairing up with Lyn for an adventure.

I'll just have to make sure not to break Lyn's trust in me, she decided, and pushed the matter aside. Dwelling on possibilities would only encourage indecision.

"We'll be better off working together, I know it," Lyn said. "You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior!" She released Amberyl only so she could hold her out at arm's length. "We can do it! Right?"

Amberyl looked into Lyn's bright eyes and found herself infected. She realized that this moment, for Lyn, would be nothing short of world-changing. An extraction from the broken life of solitude she'd been left to live in the wake of her family's death and her tribe's shattering. Small wonder she was eager to accompany Amberyl wherever the wind blew them. She had to laugh. If she could say nothing else positive about her current situation, she was glad it had brought her here.

"Yes, Lyn, we most certainly can!"

Whew! Well, that's all for the prologue. Let me know what you think of it. I've got, like, super sensitive feelings, so don't flame me :l

... just kidding. Please share what you think, bearing in mind that I'm writing this story because I love the story itself, but also because I want to improve my writing ability and the only way to do that is through practice. I welcome tactful comments, constructive criticism, and even, if I must, oblivious jerks who don't realize how abrasive they are... But it would be ever so much nicer to hear how wonderful a start I've made. That would just flower up my day.