Author's Note: I've had this idea drifting around in the back of my head for about a month, now (you can blame Elseworlds, TvTropes and copious amounts of caffeine for inspiring it). Thus, I've decided to do something with it. This fic is designed to tackle the question: What if, instead of existing in a fantasy setting, the Blazing Sword cast existed in the modern day as an indie band?

Prologue: On the Eve of Change

The car door closed with a crunch. Lyn secured her footing and then turned to give a smile and a half-wave of departing to her friend. Florina smiled back and then turned her attention to easing back into the flow of traffic. Lyn watched Florina's ice-blue car move forward and vanished at the end of the snow-covered lane.

She turned away from the city streets and began working her way across the icy sidewalks. The winter had been harsh this year and that made navigating anywhere- whether by car or foot- a chore.

As she walked, her gaze turned upward toward her place of employment. Most people dismissed it as a hole-in-the-wall mom-and-pop organization, but Lyn knew better. Mr. Robert Pherae really cared about the place and was doing his best to make something of The Trading Post. It was a little place located on the forgotten side of town, but a simple glimpse would tell you that the building was well maintained. Between the red paint and the white trim it managed to look pretty decent.

Her hand met the smooth, metal doorknob and a burst of ice shot up her palm. Spurred by that jolt of cold, Lyn threw her weight against the door, opened it, and moved inside as quick as she was able. A smooth twist and a flick of her wrist slid the door closed- or so she had planned. In the face of her efforts, a blast of arctic wind slapped against the door and snapped it wide open. Lyn huffed and closed the door properly.

"Hello, Mr. Pherae." She called to the red-haired man behind the counter. All the while she moved to stash her belongings in the stockroom and don her work apron.

"Hello, Lyndis." Robert Pherae welcomed her in return. "How's your grandfather doing today?"

A frown passed over Lyn's features at the question. She paused in her efforts get situated and glanced at her employer. The answer to his question wasn't one that she liked: "He's struggling a bit. The cold air isn't good for him."

"Ah." The older man said. "I wish him well, then. With any luck, this winter will blow over soon. 'least that's what the weatherman says and we all know how accurate they are."

"Tell me about it. I'm just glad that Florina's schedule matches up with mine so well. Otherwise I'd be slogging through this mess to get anywhere."

"Aye. It's not doing business any favors either; as cold as it is, I'm expecting business to be on the slow side, today." Mr. Pherae said slowly. He then turned and gave Lyn a small helpless shrug. "Well, now that you're here I'll leave the counter to you. If you need anything I'll be in the back giving Lowen some more lessons on food preparation."

"Alright." Lyn replied with a nod. "Best of luck."

"With Lowen, I may not need it. That boy is showing a lot of promise." With that, Mr. Pherae left for the back kitchen, leaving Lyn to her own devices.

Mr. Pherae's prediction proved to be true. For the bulk of the morning, Lyn was left to her secondary tasks as there were few tables in need of waiting. Silverware was polished and floors were mopped. Mr. Pherae preferred to decorate The Trading Post with framed pictures and paintings and thus Lyn turned her attention to dusting and cleaning those frames in order to pass the time.

Not even the lunch rush proved to be much of a rush but more of a series of stragglers passing through on their own time- if that. Lyn took care of each customer as they appeared and left. Overall, however, it seemed like the day was destined to be more of a loss than profit.

As the end of her shift neared, the cafe's front door opened. Lyn glanced up from her work behind the counter to find two men stepping into the shop. Both were tall and well-built of similar stature. One sported a head of reddish-orange hair and held a seriousness in his eyes that spoke of discipline. The other had a much more relaxed posture and messy dishwater brown hair tied back in a bandanna.

The two men moved across the dining area and selected a table by the far wall. Upon their arrival, the blond one whispered something to his companion. The redhead returned the whisper with a sharp look, to which the blond threw up his hands in an appeasing gesture and donned an apologetic grin. The red-haired man then seated himself at a table while the blond one slipped off to the washroom.

The two couldn't be more different if they tried, Lyn decided.

She gave the new customer a moment to get situation, palmed a set of menus, and then approached him. She put on her best hostess' smile as she entered speaking range and broached some conversation to get the ball rolling on their coming exchange.

Her speech began with practiced ease while she placed the menus on the table. "Hi, Welcome to The Trading Post and-" Lyn broke off as a strange look appeared on the man's face. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes, I..." The man. He deftly shook his head as though clearing away some stray thoughts. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You look familiar to me for some reason, I just can't quite place why."

Lyn frowned in thought. His claim wasn't completely unreasonable, but she couldn't say that the feeling was mutual. There wasn't much, if anything, about this man to which she was acquainted. He had to be mistaking her for someone or something else.

"Ah. It's alright." She tried to smooth over the awkward bump in the conversation. "I get that from time to time. So, can I get you and your friend any-"

"Hey- no fair, Kent!" A boisterous voice entered the conversation. "I saw her first!"

The hostess' smile vanished, to be replaced by a disapproving frown, as Lyn turned to glare in the direction of the washrooms. The dishwater-blond man had returned. He was now sporting a lazy smile and the bearing of someone enjoying a good joke.

"I go away for one minute and you're already chatting it up with the chicks. I didn't think you had it in you." The blond man laughed. "So, did you get to first base yet?"

"Sain- you-" The redhead's voice faltered. Lyn was mildly pleased to note that his face was rapidly turning the color of his hair. The rest of her was frustrated over the whole situation. "That's not-!"

"I know, I know. I'm just razzing you. No reason to get all worked up." Sain replied with a teasing tilt. He moved across the room and dropped into his chair; his head then turned to look up at Lyn. "So, gorgeous, seeing as how this place is mostly empty and there's nothing else to do, maybe you could join a couple of young eligible bachelors for dinner?"

"If there were any here, I might consider it." Lyn replied with perfect deadpan. She plucked a notepad from an apron pocket and became all business. "What can I get you two?"

"I'll have a double cheeseburger and, knowing Kent, he'll have a grilled chicken sandwich. Top that off with two Cokes and we'll call it good." Sain's reply came with a practiced ease, indicating that the present situation was by no means unfamiliar to him. That alone told Lyn volumes.

"Gotcha. It'll be right up." Lyn, for her part, just opted to walk away from it all.

She crossed the room and slipped through the back kitchen door, bringing her face to face with Mr. Pherae and Lowen. Lowen was an interesting kid. While his hair was in order, it was so overgrown Lyn often found herself wondering how the guy managed to see anything. He was evidently good in the kitchen, however, and Mr. Pherae was constantly giving him advice and guidance on the path to becoming a chef.

Mr. Pherae looked up to greet her. A slight case of worry lined his face.

"There's a pretty big storm heading our direction. I just heard on the radio that they're shutting the university down early and preparing to close the roads, so I'm going to follow suit and shut down early tonight. You'd best make some calls and find out how you're getting home." He said.

"Thanks, I'll call Florina as soon as I'm done here, but there are two men out front that just ordered."

"Alright, soon as they're gone we'll be gone."

Lyn left the order in Mr. Pherae's capable hands and then moved back out front to start closing up the little cafe. The last thing that they needed was for more people to arrive at this particularly wrong moment. She risked a glance at the sky... it was definitely on the darker side of pleasant. That did not bode well.

Fortunately, things worked in her favor. With the last of her classes canceled for the evening, Florina was able to leave the school early. She arrived shortly after Kent and Sain had left. Lyn bid Mr. Pherae and Lowen a quick farewell, gathered her things, and left the closed cafe for the relative safety of Florina's car.

"Hi." Florina gave her friend an awkward smile. "How was work?"

"Very slow. That's about the whole of it." Lyn punctuated that sentence with a weary sigh. "If business stays this slow, I'm not sure how long Mr. Pherae can stay in the black. It's hard for an independent restaurant, you know."

"I know... but he'll manage. He always does."

For her part, Florina turned her attention to managing her driving. The sky was getting blacker by the second; it even managed to feel threatening.

A quiet silence settled between the two as the vehicle made its way out of town and into the suburbs. Occasionally an observation or a joke would pass between them, but for the most part Lyn and Florina just watched the roads and skies with unease. They had a ways to travel and each hoped that the snowstorm would hold off until their trip had ended.

Such was not to be. What began as a few flurries soon turned into a blanket of falling white. Lyn noted with some displeasure that the falling flakes were thick and wet- a slushy snow- the sort that became slick and mushy when pressure was applied to them. The car coasted for a second and then lost speed as Florina let off the gas pedal. Visibility became poor.

Mercifully, traffic was light save for the occasional hotshot. Lyn fired a disapproving frown at those who refused to slow down in the face of the onslaught. A large part of her wondered how anyone could be so reckless. It was baffling.

Several long minutes passed and then Florina brought the car to a gentle stop before a quaint little house. It wasn't much, but to Lyn it was home. She felt herself relax and gave her companion a welcoming smile.

"Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome." Florina replied. There was a nervousness in her voice that indicated her unease. "Just be careful going in."

Lyn nodded her agreement. "I will... and can you call me when you get home? I'd like to know that you made it in safely."

"Sure."

"Alright, I'm not going to hold you up on a night like this. I'll see you."

Lyn twisted the doorknob, popped the door open, and admitted a draft of chilling air. She grimaced, jumped out of the car and slammed the door shut once again. After giving Florina a half-wave, her attention turned toward navigating the icy walk and getting inside her little place. As quick as she was able, Lyn fumbled through her keys, undid the lock, and moved inside the house

The door was quickly shut in the face of the storm; Lyn dropped against it wearily. She hadn't liked storms in years... not since... But that was the past. Now she needed to live the present. As she pulled off her coat and gloves, a loud meow yanked her from her thoughts.

"Hi, Mark." Lyn waved to the white and brown cat. "Did you miss me?"

Mark, sitting upright on an end table, looked at her with wide eyes. A growl/purr combination left his throat and then he bolted off of his perch and disappeared down the hallway. The storm must have had him on edge. She'd probably find him huddled underneath a bed or something a little bit later. He was finicky that way.

Lyn shook her head and moved to put her coat and hat in the closet. As soon as she could get her things deposited she needed to check on her grandfather. It was early enough for him to still be asleep, his medication had that effect on him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She moved past the living room couch and into the hallway. Once there she peeked in on her grandfather's room. He was leaning back in his recliner; his chest was rising and falling rhythmically. Lyn nodded. All looked well there.

There wasn't much else to be done but retreat to the front room. If nothing else, Lyn decided, they were probably in for a rather quiet evening.

Looking back on this event years later, Lyn would find it humorous just how wrong that assessment really was. For this one night was to be anything but ordinary.

End Prologue