Chapter 1: The Blow
Spring Day 1
Legends are a bit of a funny thing. When most people hear a given tale for the first time, it has already gained a certain surreal quality, having invariably transformed from a simple account of events into something that sounds more like a fairy tale than a real story about real people. It's hard to know whether or not to dismiss our legends as the product of rumor and hearsay, but often as not, the stories we hear and tell have an underlying truth at their heart which has merely been shrouded by exaggerated details. It is this truth which repeatedly calls men and women to action, reminding them of the deeds of their forebears. It is this truth that makes new legends from the old.
And so it was on one particular morning in the kingdom of Norad, when the land's latest legend was born from chance, courage, and a healthy portion of malice and general stupidity. This day, the first of spring, was not so much a calendar date as a feeling in the air, a golden tint to the sunlight, the smell of cherry blossoms and the way the gentle wind carried along several wispy clouds in their serene voyage across the sea of the bright blue sky.
The clouds were not the only frigates to be seen in this part of Norad's airspace. Not that there were many people below to take note of this fact; there was a distinct lack of civilization in the area, so the only local witnesses to a legend's beginning were a few roosting birds who were abruptly startled into flight by the passage of an airship overhead. The indignant leader of these birds, a large female with pinkish red plumage, expressed her displeasure with a loud squawk and launched herself skyward. Quickly overtaking the source of the disturbance with a few flaps of her powerful little wings, the bird paused to light on the head of the ship's only visible passenger, a young woman with pale green hair and an attitude of restless preoccupation.
The woman stiffened a little with surprise, but otherwise did not break from her reverie. She continued to grip the starboard rail with whitened fingers and stare at the ground passing beneath them with a constant searching gaze. Even when the bird opened her beak and gave a few more screeches which, in the common tongue, would have been distinct complaints about the rudeness of flying an airship directly over nesting territory during egg-laying season, the woman didn't respond or give any sign that she noticed the little creature on her head. Disgruntled, the bird finally gave up and flew off to round up the rest of her scattered flock.
"I don't have much time," the passenger muttered to herself, gazing after the small red bird with a slightly desperate expression, as if wishing she had wings herself that could fly faster than the airship's current pace.
"Excuse me!" she called urgently to the captain where he stood at the stern. "How close are we to Selphia?"
"Oh, we're almost there," the captain answered. "You setting out to do some sightseeing?"
"Y-yes," the woman replied with a slight, ironic laugh. "Something like that."
"You seem awful eager to get there, too," commented the captain unnecessarily. "Anyhow, it's a real nice town. Beautiful air and scenery, and it's got a great atmosphere. You can feel the protection of the dragon god when you're standin' on them roads! You'll enjoy your stay for sure."
"I hope so..." she murmured, and returned to staring over the side.
Unknown to her, two pairs of eyes watched her from the recesses of two large wooden barrels sitting on the deck nearby.
"Psst, can you hear me?" one of the barrels whispered to the other, below the woman's hearing.
"Yes sir," the other one responded.
Silence fell again, but only for a few moments.
"...by the way, what are we doing?" the second barrel asked.
"What kind of idiot are you?!" hissed the first. "You don't even know why we're here?"
"You told me not to ask questions!" said the second defensively. "Said it was orders. Besides, you always get mad whenever I ask you anything..."
"What?" If a barrel could have an aneurism, this one seemed close to achieving the feat. At the angry voice behind her, the green-haired woman half turned round, and both barrels were suddenly rendered mute. Seeing and hearing nothing more, she frowned and turned back to the rail.
"We're here to see that person," the first barrel informed the second after a few minutes had passed.
"That woman?" inquired the subordinate barrel.
"See any other passenger around here, stupid?" its superior growled.
"No. Well, there's us, but—"
"We're stowaways, not passengers!" the first barrel finished angrily. "Now be quiet, you idiot. We're about to make our move. You ready?"
"Y-yessir!"
"RAAAAAH!" both barrels cried aloud with one voice, and their lids flew off, revealing two soldiers in full uniform, both brandishing longswords that they didn't seem to know how to use.
"Wha–" the woman gasped, spinning around fully. The captain and his lone crew member turned to look as well.
"Heh-heh-heh," the leading soldier chuckled, loudly and theatrically. "We're taking over this ship now! If you don't wanna get hurt, then do as we say!"
"Yeah! Do as we say!" his subordinate echoed.
"Now give us the thing," the leader continued, "And we'll let you go."
The woman's eyes glinted with understanding and a hint of scorn, but the rest of her features were arranged innocently. "I don't know what you—"
"That thing you're about to give to the Native Dragon!" the leader interrupted impatiently.
"How do you even know about that?" she exclaimed, abandoning pretense. "For Aquaticus' sake, isn't any secret information actually secret anymore?"
"Unfortunately for you," the soldier sneered, "It isn't. You'd be surprised at what a little research can turn up these days."
"But did you research everything?" the woman countered swiftly. "This gift is more important than you know, or you wouldn't be trying to stop it getting to Selphia safely. If you think I'll just hand it over without a struggle, you're wrong."
As she spoke, the woman's hand drifted towards her side, where the slight glint of sun on metal hinted at a blade concealed in the short skirt of her tunic.
"Big words, little lady," the leading soldier leered. "Can you follow through on them?"
The woman smiled slightly in reply and drew her weapon, a simple one-handed broadsword that rested comfortably in her practiced grip. Her eyes darted downwards as she leaned into her stance, instinctively noting the weak spots in that of her opponent. Feet too far apart, toes turned inwards, knees locked. This would be too easy.
Two minutes later, both soldiers lay flat on their backs, groaning from the impact of hitting the ship's wooden deck. The woman returned her sword to its former location with a satisfied nod. She hadn't even had to use the edge, merely ducking under the men's clumsy attacks and shoving the hilt into their stomachs, knocking the wind out of them. From there, it was a simple matter to undermine each of their stances with a sweeping kick, pulling their feet out from under them. All those hours of emergency combat training hadn't been wasted.
Still, she was troubled by the fact that they'd actually known about what she was carrying with her, the true object of her journey. Glancing towards the largest leather pouch on her belt, she felt a sudden urge to check that its contents were still there, still safe; on an impulse, she turned away for a moment to take the pouch off her waist and risk a glance into the interior. Yes, they were still there. She could relax now, think about what she was going to do with the stowaways, whether to tie them up or—
A sharp pain abruptly burst through her skull, flaring out from a single point at the back of her head. As she collapsed forward against the side of the ship, the walls of her vision closing, the woman was dimly aware of her hand releasing its grip, the pouch's contents spilling out of the open flap as both tumbled over the edge and towards the ground below...
Author's Notes:
Hi, guys! So this is my first Rune Factory fic, born from countless replays of all four numbered games, a few giant cups of coffee, and a spur-of-the-moment decision. I plan for this to be a retelling of the entire Rune Factory 4 storyline (though this particular fic will probably cover just the first story arc, with sequels for the second and third arcs and possibly a few accompanying oneshots), focusing on Frey as the main character; I haven't yet decided whether Lest will make an appearance or not.
Naturally, I will be taking a few minor liberties with dialogue and story, and since a lot of important choices in the game are left up to the player's discretion, there are naturally some variable outcomes in the canon universe anyway. In case you're wondering, I have no idea who I'm going to have Frey marry yet. That choice is left open for now; it could literally go in any possible direction.
Anyhow, I know our archive isn't large, but I just thought I'd post this story here for fellow Rune Factory fans to read. I hope to have you all along for the ride to come!
Credits: Story by Ariana Raven, based on the Rune Factory game series by Natsume. Only the words are mine; the characters are not mine, the idea is not mine, and I do not own Rune Factory. Title taken from the English translation of the game's opening song, Kaze no Traveler. Cover image is not mine either; I'm only responsible for photoshopping it.