Author's notes:

1) Generic disclaimer. I have been so tired of writing disclaimers that I have come to the right decision to drop the issue totally. No, not that totally as to make people sue me for no reasons. Alright, all I have to say is that I own nearly nothing in this story, okay? Once again, I own no characters and/or technology and/or whatsoever brand-name...things in this story. Lawyers, please just go away and leave me alone.

2) This story is inspired by a Flash game called "Caravaneer" on Just inspired, no piracy at all. Got me? It is just Guy and Farina going out with their caravan for a good sum of money.

3) I have said this too many times already but I'll repeat it again. Would you guys please review this for me if you have anything to say? PLEASE? Okay, maybe not now. Just read first, and review. Alrighty? Read and review. Thanks a great deal!

P.S. This story is not meant to be tragic or angsty though the first chapter may seem so A LOT.

Chapter 1

Memories

The plains of Sacae had always been peaceful in the evening, and in fact, the later it was, the quieter it would become, until the point during which nothing but the cool breeze could be heard. The places where horses and sheep were free to run about early in the day would become devoid of all sounds and disturbances once the night set in, as all the conscious nomads would know how to protect their cattle from the you-know what invisible dangers that might pop up suddenly during the night- either good-for-nothing, nowhere close to honorable cattle thieves or suddenly changing weather, being the major cause of deaths amongst untended animals, if we are to trust what the elder Sacaens say.

Guy walked up to a small ledge overlooking a patch of green grass below, directing his focus at a solitary great tree growing right out of the blue amidst the ocean of grass. That was the place he and his sister, together with the children in the village used to play hide and seek, and the great tree would act out as the meeting place for him the rest of his folks during starry nights like today. Exactly twenty paces from that tree, as the swordmaster remembered, was the village square, so-coined by those having been to large cities before, the exact version of the greet tree, except that was reserved for the grown-ups. And gers- yes, of course no one can talk about nomadic lives without mentioning these multipurpose collapsible houses… they used to completely cover the rest of the green patch- the population of the Kutolah tribe was remarkable talking about a nomadic tribe. The swordmaster took a deep breath. The land of his origin was right there, stretching out as far as his eyes could cover, and the pure, untouched starry sky covering the space above him did hardly change since the day he left. Yet everything was different now.

There was nothing left of the tribe, except for the swordmaster's memories. The entire tribe had obviously moved, as they would always do once every three or four years. Worse still, they had left at the very time Guy needed them most…

The legendary killing edge gazed aimlessly at the starry sky once more. It was under this sky three years ago that the then-self proclaimed sword practitioner Guy left his home behind and set off for a "journey for life" searching to master his blade, thus the beginning of a myriad of adventures and misadventures culminating in the battle against the Dark Druid Nergal, which was half a year ago. And today under the same sky the swordmaster Guy returned to the place he once called home, ironically not hoping to find it. Nomads do not stay in one place like the peers of Lycia do, after all, nor would they be able to expect survival if they were to. A child of the plains leaving his home and tribe alone would, therefore, be expected to sever all ties with his home and his tribes, as the passed-down history of Sacaen tribes as told by the elders had shown no examples in which such a castaway- as they were called- would return once more to his tribe.

The young yet deadly swordmaster knew this all too well. He knew that he would be getting nowhere were he to stay back with his tribe and wait for the time Mother Sky and Father Earth take him away on the never ending trip to reunite with his ancestors. That was not the way, as he had thought. He would do much better leaving the nomadic life in search for some adventures himself, and only in doing so would he become the deadliest blade in all of Sacae- a sort of an ego trip, as some people may assert, but he did not care. And that was exactly what he did. And that was why he never once felt nostalgic, being perfectly happy with his life as a ronin all along, even when he nearly starved to death, or when he nearly got badly beaten in an unfortunate arena fight…

Until very recently…

Guy took a deep sigh. It was a strange sight, as the steel-hearted swordmaster was well known to be able to hide his emotions quite well. His being nearly totally devoid of any emotion at all as well as his single-minded pursue of his target- to be the best swordsman in all of Sacae- had made him unpopular to most of the ladies in Lord Eliwood's camp, his unpopularity seconded to none but his master, the sword demon Karel. And suddenly on a beautiful afternoon, his emotion came back to him. When Guy had proved his worthiness as a swordmaster, and when even his master had admitted his superiority, then and only then he realized that there was something much more important that all of that which he was seeking.

"Priscilla…" the lone swordsman uttered as an answer to the question

Talking about Priscilla, Guy believed he could go on for days now. For some reason that only the young devil know why, Mark the famed tactician had been pairing Guy with Priscilla ever since they joined the group, and the excuse was "What a berserk kensai needs is a good smart agile girl who could provide drive-by-healing" At first, they were the exact opposite- a kind hearted, innocent, helpful and rather weak-minded girl and a strong-willed, rather dull and hardened ruthless fighter of a "frozen soul" as what Serra remarked. Guy responded to that pairing by completely ignoring his partner for as long as he could remember, thinking that she would eventually go away. It turned out the other way around, as her soft heart and warm soul managed to keep the swordsman from becoming a heartless sword worshipper like his master, and turned him, slowly, bit by bit, into a real dependable friend whenever he was tagging along with her- a miracle, as he recalled now, and the two became fast friends. As the battles cooled down, their relationship developed into something more…

Guy sat down at the foot of the ledge, his collection of swords set aside for the time being, letting his mind dwell deeper into his memories…

"Hey, watch your…Ouch!" Guy gave out a low shriek as the oily solution from Priscilla's healing salve container touched his badly grazed skin

"Ah… sorry… my mistake" the troubadour instantly withdrew her healing apparatus, as if fearing to hurt him further, ant then took out a small handkerchief and started to wipe away the excess medicinal paste even more carefully than when she applied it "I… I didn't know that…"

"C'mon, I am not that weak" Guy instantly snapped angrily at his healer "Don't treat me like a child"

Guy was most amused later on to learn that instead of dropping the issue, ever since then, Priscilla had been extra careful when handling his injuries, and finally the swordsman managed to learn his basic lesson in being grateful and contented…

"Next wave, Guy coming to the rescue!" Guy cried out, rushing forwards "Nothing is impossible!"

"Err… would you mind watching out for arrows, will you?" Priscilla nearly yelled at Guy when he charged carelessly at a large group of archers holding fire "They are dangerous!"

"What do you take me for? I am NOT Florina!" was Guy's answer, as he continued to rush head-on at the enemy division. As Sain and Kent had been able to nearly totally annihilate the enemy mounted force thanks to a sackful of Killer weapons, Guy was totally confident in his being able to do the same…

That was, until he woke up in the makeshift infirmary the next day, being impaled by no less than three steel-tipped arrows, and, as Sain revealed later with a grumble- the poor Paladin couldn't wait to get as much attention from lovely ladies- he would have been as dead as a corpse had it not been for Priscilla's handy-dandy Physics staff. It was through this occasion that the lucky swordsman learnt one thing- nothing is impossible IF AND ONLY IF you are up to it.

"Ah…" Priscilla exclaimed softly, having all the reasons to- a Black Fang professional Paladin was heading straight for her, brandishing something readily recognizable as a Killer Lance. And everyone knows that until she'd learnt how to use Anima tomes, she would remain defenseless…And it seemed that the foul Evil Paladin was ready for his kill…

Before he knew it, his lance-wielding arm was severed, followed by a mighty armor piercing thrust, putting him to rest before he could even realize what had happened.

"You'd better take care next time" Priscilla's savior, apparently Guy, turned to her, and spoke as he sheathed his sword "Those cowards aim for unarmed people first thing in the morning"

"Err… Guy?" Priscilla called out for Guy as he swiftly turned away to leave

"What is it?" Guy turned back, looking at Priscilla, only to hear a soft "thank you" that she uttered. As he turned away, his face burned as it became red with a kind of strange embarrassment.

Later, during dinner, Guy was even more embarrassed when he learnt from the Tactician that Priscilla had rushed out his way to see what had become of him. Only then did he realize that the tactician did have his point…

"And that is what we call grooming" Guy said, stroking Priscilla's steed on the forehead, looking attentively at an amused and definitely amazed Priscilla. Unlike Sacaen warhorses, the troubadour's young steed would rather qualify for a pony than a horse, making it much easier to care for. The steed had, for some reasons, fallen ill during the march and it seemed that the young maiden had not have too much experience tending to a horse's every needs "Next time, when the horse falls ill again, just go see me"

"I will" was the troubadour's answer, as she led the horse back to the stable "Thanks, Guy"

The swordmaster sniggered lightly at the thought of what happened after that- the young lady went looking for him every time her horse encountered some kind of problems since then, despite his being far from the most experienced horseman in the whole army. He was being Priscilla's squire, voluntarily and whole-heartedly, during the last stages of the battles against the Black Fang, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience…

"What would you do when this was end, Guy?" Priscilla asked as the duo enjoyed their free time under an old oak tree not far from Dragon's Gate "Where would you go?"

"Certainly it's uncertain" the swordsman answered "Maybe I'll continue on my trip to perfect my blade"

"May I…suggest something?" Priscilla asked nervously "You may…err… count this as a request…"

"What is that?" Guy asked curiously "Don't say you want me to escort you home…"

"Not just that, Guy" Priscilla said, looking straight at Guy's face, having summoned all her courage "I would like to ask you to join my foster father's standing army when this all ends"

"What's the reason? I don't like to be controlled by any army, Priscilla"

"But we can be together" the girl replied shyly

The swordmaster sighed. In the end, he did follow her home and joined her father's army, and as a member of Lord Eliwood's army, got himself enlisted amongst Count Caerleon's highest ranking knights, an honor not many could afford. It was then that disaster struck, that by now, he felt that joining Count Caerleon's forces by Priscilla's wish was the worst mistake he had ever made.

The sheer thought of the past was enough to put the suffering swordmaster off for good, and Guy could bear no more just to think about it any longer. Guy finally stood up and garnered his prized possessions- his collection of swords of all sorts he had gotten as a reward after the army turned out Dragon's gate after victory, some of which were more valuable than a crate full of gold: two Killing Edges, two Regal Blades and three Silver Swords- ironically none could help solve his problem, getting ready to move on. His footsteps had lost meaning as well, as there was nowhere he could go to now, with his tribe on their annual evacuation run and his happiness unrealized.

"It's time to leave" Guy told himself, although he had nowhere to go himself

It was getting late, and the swordsmaster was getting more depressed all too well. When memories were those that could never become true, or those that had already been proved false at present, it would turn out to be haunting. The more beautiful and perfect memories are, the more haunting they would be. All those memories had been coming back to haunt Guy every now and then for the past few weeks, especially at night, when he was all alone and far from anyone else, the bitter past claiming its toll on the lone traveler with no salvation…