A lock of my long, wavy brown hair fell into my face as I rode through the golden fields of wheat. I flashed a grin at my brother, Nael, as he pulled his horse around in the clearing. I yanked on the reins of my horse, urging it to go faster.

"You are too slow, petit soeur," he grinned as I reached the clearing.

"Not all of us are as amazing as you, grand frère." I shot him a playful glare as we circled each other on horseback.

"Correct, for the first time," he teased and I laughed. We continued towards the hill for several minutes in elated silence. I was to Nael's right as we entered the area. I let out a small laugh as he drove our father's horse in a jump over the fence.

"Now you are showing off," I laughed.

"A little," he answered with a mischievous smile. I shook my head at him and rode up the path in the center of the hill. Once at the top, I pulled my horse, Rachel, to face the horizon in front of us. She was a beautiful white Lippizan dotted with gray. I'd had her since she was a foal and had deemed her Rachel after my mother.

I had never known my mother, but my father told me stories of her throughout my childhood. Supposedly, she was a beautiful woman, and my father met her three years after my brother's mother had passed. They had met in the Caribbean while he was away trading goods from France. She has asked him to take me, as she was too poor to raise another child. And so, I came with my father in his immigration to the colonies. Smiling at the memory of the stories I'd heard so many times, I breathed in deeply, drinking in my surroundings. This was the most beautiful time of day, just before dusk. The setting sun hit the meadows evenly, casting a golden light upon everything as far as the eye could see.

Wait. It was just before sunset? I hadn't even realized.

"Grand frère! It is sunset! Père will be home any minute!" I called across the hill to him in excitement. I nearly laughed in happiness as I galloped through the recently harvested fields of wheat back towards our cottage.

Our father had left on a long trip to France, his birthplace, six months ago. He was to return that night at sunset, and nothing could have dulled my excitement to see him again. I pulled my horse into the stables with Nael coming just seconds after me, and we rushed together into the house. My face was covered with a grin that could have illuminated the entire room as I threw open our wooden back doors. It was almost instantly replaced with a look of concern and confusion as the first thing I saw was my grandmother sitting in her rocking chair with her head in her hands. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably, moved by the loud sobs escaping her.

"Mémé! What is wrong?" I rushed to her side and laid my arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

"Mon fils! Mon beau fils!" she cried.

"What's happened?" Nael asked, his voice wavering with worry. I noticed the letter discarded at my grandmother's feet. I slowly reached down to see what had her so troubled.

Dear Sir or Madam,

We regret to inform you with deep sorrow that Monsieur Gaspard Legrand has passed away on the night of June 19th.

I read the letter aloud to Nael, and my eyes widened at that sentence. My heart began to pound through my chest and tears swam in my eyes, blurring my vision. I blinked them away and drew in a shaky breath before beginning to read again.

His was one of the many lives claimed this summer by an epidemic of yellow fever.

I couldn't read on. I dropped the page and threw myself into my brother's arms as it fluttered to the floor. The warm tears began to flow from my eyes, and he and I were soon crying on each other's shoulders.

"We will be alright, petit souer, I promise," he said through tears. He was always the strong one in the face of tragedy.

"We will be alright," he repeated softly. I hoped more than anything that he would prove to be correct.

That night, I could not bring myself to call asleep. Every time I shut my eyes, his voice filled my ears, always saying the same thing.

Do what I have taught you to do.

I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to shake the feeling that I could be doing more for him. And I could be. At a certain point, I was convinced. I stood up, pushing my quilt off of myself, and crept to my desk. I composed two letters that night, first to General George Washington, informing him of my departure from home and telling him that I would be joining his ranks once I made my way north. Next, I wrote to Nael. I explained to him how Père had spent every moment with me discussing battle strategies, how to surprise the enemy, how to fight. I wrote also of the time we had spent hunting, when I had learned to operate a musket. I asked him to take care of Mémé for me, and to take care of Rachel. I would be taking my father's horse with me to battle; it was faster, stronger and trained more expertly. I pleaded for him to understand why I had to go. Père had spent all of his life strategizing for the army of the colonies, but his life came to an abrupt end before we could be freed. I needed to finish his work, and I wouldn't stop until we were living in an independent nation.

I signed my letters and sealed them, leaving my letter to Nael on my desk for him to find and taking my letter to General Washington with me to mail. I next crept to my wardrobe, taking only the pants that my father had purchased for me at my request along with some ruffled shirts and packing them into my trunk. I slipped into one of the outfits, and glanced at myself in the mirror. I saw looking back at me not the young woman who would cry for her father, but a strong nineteen year old who was to free her new land. I knew it was impractical, but I also slid in my journal with two of the letters from my father that I had saved during his travels expertly tucked in the pages, along with two bottles of ink and a quill. I picked up my trunk and crept down the stairs. I pulled my father's horse to the front of the house and slid a pack with my father's musket onto it. I would also put my trunk in, after taking some money and food for the long journey from Virginia to New York.

I slipped back into the house and filled the remainder of the space in my trunk with all the food that would last, which was mainly bread. I also went back up the stairs for the last time and took the money that my father had stored in his dresser. I didn't bother with the French money, but I took all the new American and British money he had stored. As I prepared to leave, I glanced into Nael's room as I passed. I would miss him nearly as much as my father once I left, but I had to go. He was soundly asleep, and I was grateful for the fact. It meant that I wouldn't need to confront him as I left. I went back down to our front doors and before opening them, I turned to look back at my beloved home. Next time I saw it, we would be living in a new nation.

I opened the front doors and shut them silently behind me before crossing out porch and walking down the steps. I smiled at the large brown stallion standing obediently in front of me. I placed my trunk into the pack on its back and hoisted myself into the saddle.

Straightening my back with confidence, I snapped the horse's reins and it galloped forwards, carrying me into the unknown.

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Is this any good? this was just a prologue, but this is a Laf x OC story. thoughts?