As some of you may know, back in May, I published a story of the same title. Well, I really wanted to redo it and separate it into chapters. Since the last one was slightly misunderstood, I've changed the story quite a bit, though the overall theme is the same. Anyways, I would like to thank Gunlord500 and Lemurian-Girl for their advice last time. Very helpful! Anyways, I hope this one is more enjoyable. And yeah, I might be a little OOC, and it is a short chapter. Help.

Oh, before I forget, there is a little bit of violence in this chapter, nothing extremely bad, but I'm just going to warn you since this is K+...

Disclaimer: I don't own FE.

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Separate Paths

Chapter 1

"Watch out, Lady Priscilla!"

The tan mare reared just in time to spare its rider from a dangerous arrow. An inexperienced rider might have fallen from the steed in that moment, but the scarlet-haired maiden skillfully maintained her balance. A young man strode to her side, raising his hand to summon his magic. Fire swirled at his fingertips as he muttered a few ancient words. With a quick hand gesture, the boy aimed the blazing fireballs at the lone archer; the flames crashed into him and scorched his leather-clad skin. When the corpse fell to the stone floor, the short mage turned to the rider. Sweat trickled down his exhausted face.

"Are you hurt at all, Lady Priscilla?" he inquired with a stolid voice, though his countenance portrayed his concern for the reserved troubadour.

"Oh, no…I am fine," she replied with a smile, waving her free hand to emphasize her response. "Thank you for looking out for me, Erk."

"It's my job…Do not worry about it."

"Are you injur-"

A noisy movement behind them caught the attention of Erk's vigilant amethyst eyes, and he hurriedly commanded, "Stay near Eliwood and Matthew at the right hallway; I will return in a moment unless Mark calls me elsewhere."

The mage dashed through the main entrance leading outside, his crimson cape flailing behind him. The frail troubadour watched his departure, words still hanging on her tongue. "Just be safe…"

The battle would end shortly. If Eliwood, their leader, and his men could hold out long enough, Ostian reinforcements would arrive at the fort and eradicate their malicious enemies. The fort's guards were slowly diminishing as the enemies pressed through the small entrances, filtering into the rooms and hallways. They approached from all sides, save the back, and currently, the left hall was flooded with enemy troops. Many still waited outside, ready to destroy any fool who dared oppose their forces. Though it seemed quite hopeless, the news of fast-approaching Ostian reinforcements relieved Eliwood's company greatly, and their morale and courage stayed constant.

Priscilla found the lord and thief fighting in the two extensional rooms of the Ostian fortress. She waited behind them, clutching her slim healing staff, unable to aid their offense. Her emerald eyes studied their movements closely. Eliwood swiftly dodged the swing of a heavy axe, and he retaliated with a piercing blow to the fighter's burly chest. His rapier danced back and forth, shimmering as if he held the trail of a shooting star within his noble hands. Matthew, slippery as ever, quietly disappeared into a small room bearing treasure, no doubt picking locks and raiding loot.

There she lingered, unnoticed like an invisible guardian angel, only making herself known in the most dire of circumstances. She was a mere spectator of the necessary sport, though she took little pleasure in the violence of battle.

During her distraction, she paid no heed to the gentle flapping of wings growing ever closer. Soon, an olive-green wyvern landed behind her, whimpering lowly. Upon hearing these sounds, she peeked at the figures behind her, eyes widening when they met the giant creature hunched in the background. It was as if she had been stabbed with a knife of fear. Her heart pounded vigorously in her chest, each one seeming to cause time to slow. Boom, boom, boom…

The rider, clothed in purple armor, patted the wyvern's scaly neck and whispered to it, assuaging its melancholy attitude. Priscilla returned her view to the front, vainly hoping that he did not see her; she did stand out in the empty room. Her breathing became heavy as the minutes brought more fright and anxiety. As she recalled the dreadful power of wyvern riders, she became paralyzed and tense. "Where is Erk? What happens if—"

She glanced back once more. The man was dismounting his wyvern, or at least attempting it. He suddenly lost balance and fell to the ground. Priscilla gasped as he let out a blood-curdling groan. His wyvern nudged the fallen man with his pointed snout, urging his master to wake. The man remained dormant as his face twisted in agony. His green hair, mingled with white streaks, was plastered to his forehead from the perspiration he earned while engaging in an intense battle.

He was not on their side. At least, she did not remember him if he was, in fact, a part of their diverse group of worthy fighters. "He's in trouble…I have to help him. I cannot…cannot just stand here and watch him die!"

She alighted from her horse immediately after receiving those impulses, hurrying to his side. Kneeling, she examined his weakened body, noticing blood oozing between his plates of armor. She gripped her staff, cupping the sapphire orb with her gloved hand. As she delivered a short, inaudible prayer to St. Elimine, the man tilted his weary head towards her, opening his ice-blue eyes to receive a glimpse of the girl before he fell unconscious. A brilliant aura resonated from the magical orb. The man's grave wounds slowly vanished.

She expelled a sigh of relief; her concerns were significantly lessened now. The wyvern, curiously studying her actions, lowered his neck and sniffed her. She flinched, startled by the creature's sudden intrusion. He snorted at her reaction. Frowning, she stood and brushed off her white skirt, which was stained with the grainy dirt from the floor. She shot a quick glare at the nosy creature, who merely grinned with amusement, if such creatures can do so. Just as she turned to go, the young man's face twitched, and he reawakened from his dreary state, though certainly not fit for another fight. "Are you alright?" she questioned with her comforting voice, which felt like a cool morning breeze to the fatigued man.

He grunted softly as he lifted himself into a sitting position. "Yeah, I…I think I'll be alright," He cocked his head to the side. "Thanks for helping me."

"You are very welcome…," she replied, though hoping none of her teammates witnessed her good deed, if it could be considered "good" at all. She resumed walking.

"Hey, wait—"

He forced himself to stand. "My name is Heath. May I ask yours?"

She could feel her cheeks burning as she looked back. "My name is Priscilla," she answered calmly.

"Priscilla…," he repeated, laying his hand on his wyvern for support. "Thank you. Perhaps we will meet again one day…"

"Yes…," she added. However, she was unsure why she acted so nonchalant with this man, who was an enemy for heaven's sake! She cast her eyes to the ground sheepishly. "You know…umm…you could join my side, if you wish. I'm sure Lord Eliwood would not mind at all…"

The warmth that emanated from the smile growing on his face overwhelmed her with happiness and caused her to smile in return. "I'd be delighted to," he said, though something of hesitation seemed to tarnish his handsome features.

"I…I feel I must be going now. Do be careful, Heath."

With a small wave, Priscilla went to her horse and trotted towards her group. Spying on him from afar, she witnessed his return to the clear sky. When she was assured that his eyes were not upon her, she placed her slender palm on her forehead and released a joyful laugh. Something about that wyvern rider simply captivated her, something that caused happiness to suddenly arise from within and tickle her heart. She could barely contain her excitement…

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Well, there we go. Please leave a review; I would greatly appreciate it! Especially if you have some adivice! I would ask that you not burn my fic at the stake...aka flame. But I've never had that problem, so I'm sure it'll be fine. Thank you for taking your time to read this!