Crash From The Past
Prologue
"What do you think they want?" The man asked, his hand on his son's shoulder.
The young man with the scar over his left eye just stared at the rising dust the ostrich-horses made as they ran towards them, "Trouble."
His golden eyes darted to the little boy, Lee, who was standing between him and the man. Could the guards be coming because they found out it was Lee who threw the eggs? No, too small to bring their lazy butts all the way out to the farm.
Maybe they had news about Lee's brother, who the young man could not remember the name of. Whatever it was, the smirk on the head guard's face told him that it more than likely wasn't pleasant.
The ostrich-horses skidded to a stop, slinging dirt and rocks at the small family while the different variations of hog-animals all called out. "What are you doing here?" The father called out, pulling his son subconsciously closer.
"That's no way to treat a higher person," The head guard sneered.
"What's you're business?" The young man spoke sternly, a hand resting on his duel broadswords.
The head guard smirked at him, "If you must know, we recently captured a crazy person who came stumbling into town asking for her 'best friend'. After she calmed down," His small chuckle as he said these words told a slightly different story, "she described her 'friend' for us. This description led us straight to you."
The young man just rose an eyebrow, something striking at the back of his memory that would fully show itself.
The guard's smirk deepened as he reached behind him. With a small, uncharacteristic yelp, a young woman, around the same age of seventeen as the young man, fell from atop the ostrich-horse's back. The guard was holding her long blond hair as a handle as her weakened body leaned all its weight against the ostrich-horse's side.
She was dressed in a fighters outfit consisting of the same range of orange, red, and black with slight yellow and had a golden necklace fitted perfectly around the middle of her neck, a deep blood red ruby centered in the small dip on the bottom of the plating.
Scratches covered her arms, face, and neck, but what really stood out was the thin line of a burn running down the right side of her jaw.
Her obsidian eyes met the young man's golden ones, hope filling her voice as she choked out one word, a nickname that she hadn't uttered, and the young man hadn't heard, in the longest time, "Ko."
His eyes widened, looking upon the woman that he had once known as a girl. "Phoenix?"