The characters of the wonderful game Valkyrie Profile do not belong to me. That honor belongs to Square Enix. No proft is being made from this story, this is purely for fun. This fic is dedicated to Amanthya, who came up with the idea and suggested it to me. She also went over my writing and corrected my many mistakes, to which I am grateful to her. I guess you can say she is my beta! (My first one!) She's also my collaborator for future ideas in this story, so I think she deserves a big part of the credit for this idea. :)

----Michelle

The quiet of the village was broken up by giggles, the high pitched laughter of children. To hear them was to smile, their happiness infectious, making one believe all was right in the world. There could never be any problems, any strife and turmoil as long as the children were happy. And nowhere in the world could you find a better example of this then in Coriander.

The village of Coriander was not rich, not in the material sense of the word. The population consisted mainly of farmers, good honest folk who worked hard at tilling the land. Their homes may not be the most lavishly designed, but they were sturdy and strong, able to weather against the elements and provide safe haven to all. All but one of the roads was made of packed dirt, the village too poor to afford the upkeep of pavement, and the wealthiest man in town only made seven thousand oth a year.

But the people were well fed and warmly dressed, threadbare though their clothing may be. Rumors whispered their way through the village, the low hushed voices saying Coriander was blessed, gifted by the Gods in a time when they had all but forsaken the world, leaving mankind to toil on their own merits. No violence touched Coriander, no war came to its lands. The people lived in peace, never fearing that the threat of battle would one day cast it's shadow on them.

It would come as a surprise to all to learn that the reason behind Coriander's good fortune these last nine years was not due to any sacrifices they had made to the Gods. Nor did it have to do with the fact that the village was not affiliated with any of the big cities, distributing their produce to all in equal amounts. Never mind the fact Coriander was not much in the way of strategic value. No. The real reason was something all together different, and un-guessed at. And she was currently playing with her friends, giggling up a storm as she ran after them.

"Wait for me!" The child, a little girl clad in pale pink robes shouted. Her breath was coming fast and heavy, her tiny feet kicking up clods of dirt as she tried her best to keep up with the boys. Her clothing was too tight; the skirts restricted her movement, keeping her several steps behind the quick footed boys. They merely laughed to hear her pleas, running faster and faster, darting through the legs of a woman who was tending to her hanging wash.

The girl let out a cry born of pure frustration, quickening her step. She started to gain on them, and suddenly her slipper covered foot stabbed against a rather large rock. With a startled sound she was falling, crashing face first into the dirt. She was aware of laughter, the boys amused by her fall, and none came to check on her. She felt the start of tears in her eyes, but she held them back determined not to let them see her cry.

Even as her little hands start to push at the ground, she became aware of silence. The boys had stopped laughing, a hush seeming to fall over the village. She lifted up her head, feeling hands touch her sides. It was a man before her, a hooded stranger who is helping her up, gently lifting her to her feet. He wore a kind smile on his face, and she can make out a hint of green in his hair, mostly hidden by his cloak. His face was young, clear of smile lines, and his eyes a a blazing green. He was handsome, and the child found herself blushing, tongue tied in the face of his masculine beauty--something she had never much noticed before.

The stranger didn't let go of her, his hands are resting on her sides. He peered into her face, and she swore his eyes widened for just a second. She went to shake off his hands, and her hood fell back, revealing her hair. The man let's go of her to reach up to that shining, golden mass, and then he touched her lightly. It is a warm, caressing touch, and she started for it feels familiar to her.

He paused, hand still in her hair, eyes peering into hers. And then he gave a slight shake of his head, the smile turning sad. It was almost as though he has to force himself to stop touching her, and she could see but not understand the reluctance in his eyes. He stayed crouching, still eye level with her, appearing unable to move. She grew uncomfortable with his stare, and she still could not find the words to speak to him. So she merely nodded, cautiously moving to go around him, intent on joining her friends.

She took a few steps more, then hesitated, wanting to see the handsome man with the familiar touch once more. But when she turned he was gone, as though he never existed at all, and she frowned confused. Before she could wonder if she imagined the encounter, sound returned to her, the boys laughing once more. They surrounded her, touching and tugging at her robes, asking if she is okay. No mention is made of the mysterious stranger, leaving the girl to wonder if she had imagined his presence.

One last tug on her arm, the boys growing impatient by her silence. And then they were off, scampering deeper into the village, not sparing a second glance at her. She didn't mind, she was still staring off into the distance.

Who was that? She wondered, taking a step forward. Another and another, and then she was running, but away from the boys. Faster and faster she wenr, hitching up her skirts so her gangly legs flash, careful to keep from falling this time. She ran until she was at the outskirts of the village, and still there is no sign of the green haired stranger. Her steps slowed, and she lowered her eyes, a frown on her face.

There are adults tending to crops here, ready to ignore a fanciful child. But there is also a boy, sitting on the stump of a felled tree, a heavy tome spread across his lap. He is only a few years older than her, but he has already shunned the act of playing for studying, making him a recluse among the village's children. She doesn't care, naming the boy a friend, and she approaches him calling out his name.

He glances up, and for a second his face is hidden from her, sunlight shining off the panes of the glasses he wears. And then he wass moving, out of the light and into the shadows, and she saw him smile, letting out a greeting to her. He didn't close his book, still intent on the paper before him, but he gave her the benefit of half of his attention, which was more than most people got.

"Did you see him?" She asked, voice breathless from running.

"See who?" The boy replied, glancing around at the field of farmers, seeing nothing unusual there.

"The stranger!" She exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her hands. "The one with hair as green as grass!"

"I saw no one come this way. No one but you." He answered, and she sighed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He looked at her, and his purple eyes seemed to peer into her soul. "You shouldn't chase after strangers. It's dangerous!"

"I know that!" But she was shaking her head. "But this one...he wouldn't hurt me..." She whispered the last, wondering how she can be so sure of someone she's never seen before today.

Her friend glanced back at his book, clearly eager to return to his studies. She lets him, bidding him farewell, and begins the slow trek back towards the village's square. She kept her eyes downcast, studying the ground before her feet. It is the only reason why she sees it, a long strand of green that curls into itself. A quietly triumphant sound was made, and the child bent to pick up the hair. It is soft and fine, feeling like nothing she has ever touched before. And she smiles, having her proof that the man was real.

Walking off with her prize, she maked a promise to herself. To someday see once more the stranger with his fine mane of green, and this time have the courage to thank him out loud...

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To Be Continued...

Michelle