Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.
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This is a first for me; an AU story. It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!
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(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)
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"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"
by Avi
Prologue: Lost in the Wilderness
The sun's rays shone down upon the vast golden flatlands of the Sacramento Plains, far below. From this distance, it seemed empty; but as the view drew closer, a tiny figure could be seen walking across the plains.
Mark's breath came in harsh pants, as he slowly marched forward. As the sun beat down upon him, he could only curse his own foolishness for bringing him to this time and place...
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For as long as he could remember, Mark Alexander had been fascinated with the world of the Wild West. When he was younger, he used to hide dime store novels detailing frontier adventures from his parents, who thought his obsession to be childish. But he never grew out of it, as his parents hoped; in fact, his major in university was current history, with a specific focus on the vast territory of El Libre, way out west.
For the Wild West was still alive in his world, and he had always wanted to see it; the plainsmen living peacefully in their teepees, the cavalry riding in to save townspeople from a band of outlaws, showdowns between gunslingers in abandoned ghost towns... In his imagination, he could picture all of these adventures... Adventures he would never see here, in the big city, way back east.
So, he had formulated a plan... For months now, Mark had been tutoring fellow students, to save up enough money so he could buy a train ticket that would take him out West; although his parents were wealthy, and could certainly afford such a thing, he knew they would never allow it.
He also managed (after begging several of his professors) to get a letter of recommendation, so he could apply for a teaching job out West. Mark hoped that it would provide him with a steady source of income, as he was living out there.
And now, Mark had enough money to buy the ticket, as well as a little spending money on the side. And although he was not the type who would defy his parents by nature (quite the opposite, actually), the lure of the Wild West was too great...
With a twinge of guilt, he bought the ticket, then went home and packed some of his belongings into a single carpetbag. Then, writing an apologetic note to his parents, bidding them a fond farewell, he left his home and went out to board a train that would take him out west... And towards adventure.
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So, this is how Mark found himself on a train heading towards Burnt; the city just across the border in the territory of El Libre, and the one furthest to the east. Although a ticket to that particular destination was the cheapest he could afford, Mark didn't mind; besides, it gave him ample opportunity to explore as much of El Libre as possible.
He had just woken up from a restless slumber; Mark still hadn't gotten used to the noise and the bumpiness of the train ride, even after several hours of riding. Besides, he had been too absorbed in looking at the landscape rolling by (thank goodness he managed to grab a window seat!) I must have finally nodded off, after watching for so long, he thought...
Mark glanced out the window again, and was delighted to note that the vast green fields he had been watching pass by had now turned golden; a sure indication that the train was fast approaching its destination.
Excusing himself to the other passengers seated beside him, Mark edged his way out of his seat and headed to the aisle, then made his way to the back of the passenger car, where the conductor was sitting.
"Excuse me, sir," Mark addressed the elderly conductor politely, "pardon me for asking, but how much longer will it be till we reach the El Librean border?"
The conductor pulled a silver pocketwatch from his waistcoat, glanced down at it, then looked up at Mark.
"Well, young man... The train is right on schedule today, so we should've just crossed into El Librean territory about 5 minutes ago."
Mark's eyes lit up. "Really? That's wonderful!" Realizing that he sounded too a little excited, he then added in a subdued tone, "Um... Thank you, sir."
The conductor's eyes twinkled at Mark's reaction. "Don't mention it, son."
Mark then took off his hat, and twisted it nervously in his hands.
"Er... I was wondering..." he asked the conductor, "Would it be possible if I could go to the caboose, so I can get a better look at the view? I promise I won't be a bother..."
The conductor smiled at him. "Sure thing, son," he replied kindly. "Go right ahead."
The conductor opened the back door for him. Mark tipped his hat gratefully to him, then stepped outside.
It was a bit awkward for Mark, walking outside on a moving train... Fortunately, the passenger car he rode was the second last car of the train, so he didn't have to walk very far. With some difficulty, he slid open the door to the caboose, and stepped inside.
"Excuse me?" he addressed the occupants of the car. "I just want to..."
He trailed off, as he was waved through by only person inside, a crewman sitting on a chair, with his hat on his face. He seemed half-asleep... Mark quietly slipped past him, then opened the back door and shut it behind him.
Mark leaned over the back railing of the car, and breathed in deeply. Before him, the rails of the track faded into the distance, surrounded by vast golden plains. It was a magnificent view... After being trapped in a train car for several hours, Mark could finally feel the tension ease out of his body.
As he gazed at the scenery, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye; glancing to his right, he noticed a few people on horseback upon a distant cliff, watching the train go by. Mark felt his excitement build again... His first glimpse of real, live cowboys!
He craned his neck for a better look, but the riders had taken off somewhere... Mark felt a bit disappointed, but shrugged it off. He would surely see a lot of cowboys soon enough, once the train got to the station in Burnt.
Mark was then startled out of his reverie, as the train suddenly braked, slowing to a screeching halt; he nearly fell over the railing and off the train, from the unexpected stop.
Bracing himself on the railing, Mark clutched his hat, and stared at the back of the car, bewildered. What in the world was that? he thought. This train wasn't scheduled to stop until we got to Burnt!
He double-checked his surroundings; sure enough, the train was still surrounded by wilderness. Now worried, Mark tried to open the car door; after a couple of attempts, he managed to get it open.
The first thing he noticed when he went in the caboose was the crewman he saw earlier, now lying on the floor. Mark tried to revive him, but the man was out cold... Realizing there wasn't anything else he could do for him, Mark decided to head back to the passenger car. Maybe the conductor can help explain what's going on, he thought.
He was just attempting to open the door to the passenger car, when suddenly, he heard muffled screams and... Gunshots?
As he backed away from the door and flattened himself beside it, frightened out of his wits, he could barely make out the shouted words from behind the door: "This is a stick-up!"
The train is being robbed? Mark thought in shock. Nervously, he poked his head around the side of the train to take a look, but quickly drew back his head; there were horsemen near the head of the train, no doubt a part of the gang of robbers.
What am I going to do? thought Mark frantically. If they catch me out here, they'll probably kill me! If he was lucky, they would only take his money and valuables... But then he'd be all alone in a foreign place with no money, which would almost be just as bad...
Mark's eyes grew wide with fear. There was only one thing he could think of doing at the moment, that would save him... So he did it.
He ran out into the wilderness.
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Mark was lucky, very lucky, that the robbers on horseback were on the other side of the train when he ran; otherwise, his escape would probably have been cut short, right then and there.
It was only after he had run far out of sight of the railroad tracks and recovered from his blind panic, that he realized how utterly stupid an act this was.
For one thing, he had no idea where he was going... At least the train was known danger; out here, on the plains, was an unknown. The only saving grace was that he had been carrying his suitcase this whole time; not that there was anything in there that would help him, out here.
Mark cursed his own foolishness. He should've just given himself up and handed his money over to the bandits. They probably wouldn't have killed him, then; besides, once he eventually got to Burnt, he could've always wired his parents for more money.
Of course, therein lay the problem... His parents would then demand that he use their money to head back East, and he wouldn't dare disobey. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was afraid of being robbed... His foolish pride wouldn't let him give up his dream of exploring the West. Too bad he'd probably die because of it...
Mark sighed, and tried to think. If the train was heading west (at least, Mark prayed it was heading west, the rail line didn't exactly run in a straight line) and he had run away from the right of the train, then that would mean he was going north... Hopefully.
He tried to picture his geography textbook in his mind. The conductor had said the train had just crossed the border to El Libre, and Burnt wasn't far from there... So north would be... The Sacramento Plains.
Wasn't there a town up there? thought Mark. He couldn't remember the name; it was too hot to think out here... His only hope was to keep on heading in the same direction, and hope he'd come across it eventually.
Sighing once more, Mark picked up his bag, and started walking.
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As the sun rose higher in the sky, Mark kept plodding forward. He had no idea how long he'd been walking for; he supposed he could've checked his pocketwatch for the time, but he felt he barely had enough energy to keep walking, let alone do that.
Part of the problem was the heat; he just wasn't used to it. He had already removed his riding cloak and his suit coat; he would've taken off his vest as well, if it didn't mean he'd be carrying more weight.
As it was, his vest was unbuttoned, as well as the top of his shirt; his tie was loose, and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had left his hat on, however, for what little protection it could offer against the sun... Despite all this, Mark found himself panting heavily, from the heat.
Mark clutched his bowler hat to his head, in hopes that somehow it would block the sun's rays, if only briefly... It was then that landscape before him changed somewhat; from vast golden plains, wavering in the heat, into a forest of oddly pointy objects, in the distance.
They couldn't be pine trees, not way out here, thought Mark muzzily. As he drew closer, it looked like a cluster of... Tents? The heat must really be getting to him, now...
It was when he stumbled into the midst of these strange abodes that Mark finally lost hold on himself completely. As he slid into unconsciousness, he had just enough time to register a figure stepping out of one of the tents, and pale face gazing at him in concern...
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Mark awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet being pressed to his forehead. He groaned; his head still ached from too much exposure to the sun, but it was gradually being soothed by the coolness of the damp cloth that he could feel upon his head.
Something then struck him. Where am I? Mark thought in dismay. Last thing he remembered was being lost in the wild, with the merciless sun beating down on him...
"Are you awake?" asked a far-off sounding voice.
Slowly, Mark opened his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, then everything swam into view.
Before him stood... A plainswoman. There was no mistaking it; Mark had seen enough pictures of natives in his textbooks to know what they looked like. He couldn't help but stare.
She was dressed in a fringed buckskin tunic, which stopped just below her knees, and was... Slitted at the sides, up to her thighs, he couldn't avoid noticing. Mark averted his gaze with a blush.
Her long, dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, although a couple of tendrils of it hung in front of her ears; these were beaded and decorated with feathers.
He also couldn't help noting that she had a sword strapped to her waist; that struck him as odd, as it was not a weapon he would normally associate with the plains. It looked to be a sabre of some sort...
"Are you feeling better now?" asked the plainswoman just then, startling him. Mark nodded, at a loss for words.
"I found you not far from here," she continued on. "You had just passed out, from the heat."
"You saved me, then," said Mark, feeling embarrassed. "You have my eternal gratitude."
"Oh, it was nothing," she replied, with a smile. "I'm just glad to see that you've recovered."
Reaching over, she pulled the wet cloth from his head, and squeezed out the excess water into a wooden bowl set beside him. Mark saw this as an opportunity to take in his surroundings.
He seemed to be lying on a cot of some sort... The walls around him were made out of hides and gathered at the top; it was then that Mark realized that he was inside an actual teepee. Normally, he'd be excited by the mere thought of this, but he still felt a little dizzy from the heat.
"Um, where am I, anyways?" he asked, trying to peer outside the abode. "I'm afraid I don't recall much after I collapsed..."
"You're on the Sacramento Plains. This is the home of the Lorca tribe; I am Lyn, of the Lorca. And you are..?"
"My name is Mark... Mark Alexander." He sat up as he said this, but had to lie back for a moment, as the blood rushed to his head.
"Are you all right?" asked Lyn, looking concerned.
"Just a little dizzy spell," he explained. "I'm fine, really." Lyn then reached down for something beside her.
"By the way, I managed to pick up your things," she told Mark, holding up his carpetbag. "You also dropped this." She handed him a brown bowler hat, which he gratefully accepted.
"Thanks." He placed the hat on his head. The plainswoman then gave him a thoughtful look, which made Mark feel a bit uncomfortable.
"Hmmm... From your clothing, I would guess that you're not from around these parts," she finally said.
Mark fingered the drab olive suit he was wearing, in a self-conscious manner.
"That's right. I'm actually from a big city, way back east."
Lyn raised an eyebrow. "You're a long way from home, then. What were you doing all alone on the plains?"
"Um..." Mark fell silent, uncertain on how to reply... He was then saved from answering, when there was a noise outside.
"Did you hear that?" asked Lyn, turning around. "It sounded like horses... Stay here, I'll go check it out." Heading to the entrance of the teepee, she poked her head of out the flap, then quickly drew it back in.
"What is it?" asked Mark, sliding out from the cot. He pulled on his jacket and cloak, which were left at the foot of the bed.
"Bandits," replied Lyn with a frown, as she closed the flap.
Mark's eyes widened. "Way out here, on the plains? Where did they come from?"
"They have hideouts in the nearby mountains, over by Burnt," she explained. "They're probably heading to the nearby settlements, to attack."
Lyn glanced outside. "Hmmm... Only two of them; I should be able to take care of that many," she mused aloud.
"By yourself?" asked Mark, taken aback. "Not that I doubt your ability," he added, as she turned and stared at him. "I'm just concerned about your safety."
"Don't worry, I can handle them," she said, reassuringly.
Mark sighed. "I'll take your word for it, then."
"You stay here, where it's safe," she told him, as she drew her sword. "I'll get rid of them."
"I can't just let you go out there alone!" Mark protested. He then flushed and looked away. "I know I won't be much help, but I want to come with you."
He waited to Lyn to say no, and that it was much too dangerous... But all she did was look him in the eye, and say, "Very well."
Mark was not quite sure why he had insisted to come along... He suspected it was because he was still ashamed about running away from the train. Still, he was glad Lyn had allowed him to come with her... He smiled back weakly at the plainswoman.
Lyn then glanced out the teepee again. "Could you grab my pack over there, before we leave?" she asked, pointing to the corner, without turning. "Then we'll sneak out while they're not looking."
Mark nodded. He then grabbed Lyn's bag, as well as his own. Fortunately, hers was not as heavy as he feared, and he managed to lift both with ease. He then headed towards the flap of the teepee, to crouch quietly beside the plainswoman.
At Lyn's signal, both of them quickly ran outside and across the way, to hide behind another teepee. Mark looked around as they did this, and noticed the two bandits at the far side of the settlement, heading in opposite directions. Mark breathed a sigh of relief; that would make it easier for Lyn to get rid of them.
"Stay close to me, so I can protect you," she whispered to him. Mark nodded. She didn't need to tell him twice!
Using the cluster of teepees as cover, they managed to sneak up on the first bandit. Fortunately, his back was turned, as he was busily examining a bunch of hides that the plainsmen must have left out to cure.
Lyn placed a finger to her lips, then made a motion for Mark to stay where he was. Then she slowly crept up to the bandit.
Just as she reached the bandit, he turned around, as if expecting her; the plainswoman just managed to block the blow from his axe with her sword, in the nick of time.
The bandit managed to parry Lyn's first slash with his axe; the deflected blade cut her arm, causing her to wince. But the plainswoman was light on her feet; she managed to dodge his subsequent attacks, then she thrust her blade at him for the killing blow. Mark looked away as she did this, and tried not to feel ill.
When he turned back, Lyn was standing over the fallen bandit, sheathing her sword.
"Whew... That was close," she commented, wiping the sweat from her forehead. But Mark was too busy to notice this, as he was staring at the gash on Lyn's arm.
"You're hurt!" he exclaimed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I've got some healing salve in my pack. Can you get it for me?"
Rummaging around in Lyn's bag, Mark finally pulled out a sealed earthenware pot. "Is this it?" he asked.
She nodded, and he handed her the pot. After Lyn applied some of the salve from it, Mark then pulled out his handkerchief and helped to tie it around Lyn's cut arm.
"Thanks. Now, let's get that last bandit!"
"All right..." Mark was concerned about Lyn's injury, but tried to keep the worry out of his voice, for her sake.
The last bandit was on the other side of the settlement, by a large teepee that Mark assumed belonged to the chief... As they approached him warily, Mark noticed Lyn's eyes widen, as she caught a glimpse of the bandit's face.
"That's Bart the Beast!" she whispered to him, as they crouched behind another teepee. "I've seen his wanted posters in town."
Mark looked worried at this. "Are you sure you can take him?" he whispered back.
"I'll do my best to protect us." Lyn's expression was one of determination.
"All right, then," he told her, in an encouraging tone. "Go get him!"
She nodded. Lyn then charged at the bandit, opting for the direct approach this time; the bandit, caught off guard, just managed to deflect her opening blow just in time.
Mark could see that this was a tough fight for Lyn... She was quick, but the bandit was strong; even she couldn't dodge all of his attacks.
Lyn backed off for a moment, looking weary; that's when the bandit raised his axe, for what looked like a finishing blow.
"Lyn!" Mark found himself crying out.
The bandit looked up at him then, and the plainswoman took advantage of the situation; slipping past the bandit's axe blade, she managed to thrust her sword deep into his abdomen. Mark shut his eyes as she did so. When he opened them again, Lyn was wiping the blood off her blade.
"Sorry about my yelling out, back there," Mark told her sheepishly, as he stepped out from behind the teepee. "I got a little worried..."
"That's all right," replied Lyn, with a smile. "You managed to distract him enough for me to get him. Thanks." Mark smiled weakly at her.
"Let's go inside then," he told her. "I'll help tend to your wounds."
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After being led back to the teepee he first found himself in, Mark helped to apply healing salve to the rest of Lyn's wounds, then wrapped them in bandages, which he got from her pack. Fortunately, none of cuts were too deep, and they were finished in no time.
"Thanks," Lyn told him warmly, as Mark replaced the first aid supplies into her pack.
"Don't mention it," he replied, smiling. "It's the least I could do, since you protected me."
As the plainswoman stood up from the cot that she had been sitting on, Mark decided to ask Lyn a question that he had been meaning to ask since he arrived.
"So, where is the rest of your tribe?" he asked politely, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. "I would really love to meet them."
At this, Lyn's eyes grew sad and distant. "They're... Not around anymore," she told him quietly.
Mark's brow wrinkled. "Not around..?" he asked.
It then occurred to Mark that he hadn't seen any other plainsmen around the settlement, ever since he arrived here. Surely they hadn't all gone and left Lyn behind...?
Lyn hung her head. "The rest of the Lorca tribe is dead," she said quietly. "I'm the only one left."
Mark was stunned. "Oh... I'm so sorry, Lyn... I didn't realize..."
"It's all right." She continued to speak, in a preoccupied tone.
"It happened six months ago... Our settlement was overrun by bandits. They slaughtered so many of my people; my own parents were among the casualties."
"My father was the chieftain of the Lorca; with our people in disarray, I tried to lead our tribe, but they wouldn't listen to a young girl..."
Lyn wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. "Excuse me, I just can't help crying..."
"Don't worry about it," Mark reassured her. "Go right ahead."
The plainswoman then managed to compose herself. "Thank you for listening," she told him. "I've been living by myself for so long, now... It's nice to have company again." Lyn gave him a sad smile.
Mark smiled back at her. "Don't mention it. It's the least I could do; after all, you saved my life."
He then looked down at his feet. "I guess I should be going, now... I wouldn't want to impose on you any longer."
"Oh? Where are you headed?" asked Lyn. "Any particular place?"
Mark shrugged sheepishly. "Nowhere in particular, actually... When I came out here, all I really I wanted to do was explore as much of the West, as possible."
Lyn nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, then..." She looked hesitant for a moment, then went on.
"Um, Mark, I was wondering... Would you let me travel with you? I'm tired of being alone here, wondering what I could've done to protect my tribe... I want to go out into the world and become stronger."
"You're asking if you can come with me?" asked Mark, his eyes wide. "I should be the one doing the asking, so you can protect me!" He chuckled weakly at this.
Lyn smiled at him. "Then I'll become your bodyguard, Mark."
"I was joking!" he protested. "Um, don't get me wrong, though," Mark added, realizing that he might sound ungrateful. "I would definitely appreciate the company." He then smiled back at Lyn.
The plainswoman's face lit up. "I'm glad you agree," she told him, warmly. She then looked thoughtful.
"Well, if we're going to be travelling together, we should probably make some preparations for the journey. There's an outpost north of here where we can get supplies... But first, I think we should get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Mark glanced outside. It was indeed approaching sunset, and he was feeling pretty tired... He nodded at Lyn. "That sounds good."
Lyn headed to the entrance of the teepee. "You can sleep in here tonight, Mark. Sleep well!"
Mark nodded back at her, with a smile. As she left, shutting the flap behind her, he then removed his cloak and jacket, took off his hat and his boots, and crawled into the cot.
As he lay there, he found he couldn't fall asleep right away, despite his own weariness; he could only stare bemusedly at the stitched hides of the teepee above him. I guess I'm still too excited, being out West, he thought. Especially after all that had happened...
It had been a strange day, he had to admit to himself. And it would become even stranger tomorrow, when he would be travelling in the company of a plainswoman, who was skilled with the sword...
Finally, sleep overcame him, and Mark lay there, dreaming of adventures in the Wild West.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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This Fire Emblem Western is a concept that I've been toying with for far longer than I care to admit... I never planned on writing what mostly amounts to a rewrite of the game script, but I got so caught up with idea of it, that I just had to flesh it out. (I will try to add my own unique touches, though.)
As you might've guessed, "El Libre" is Elibe in this AU; it roughly translates to "The Free One" in Spanish. I will be changing a lot of the placenames in this story to fit the new setting (obviously, the Sacramento Plains is supposed to be Sacae, and Bern is now known as Burnt).
It should be also noted that this is not actually set in the U.S., but is heavily inspired by the American Wild West, circa 1880-90s. (El Libre is loosely based on California, in this story.)