Of Balverines and Broken Hearts
Chapter 1

As I lay there, motionless, my breath coming in short gasps, I slowly lifted my eyelids. The blue sky hung above me, taunting me with what it held that I couldn't reach, what it had taken from me. I knew this wasn't normal for me, but for some reason, I couldn't get the motivation to pick myself up out of that water and stand up again; I couldn't get the motivation to find wherever my Daichi had fallen and lift its heavy weight again to slice that balverine's head off. I just… couldn't.

I felt the cool water seeping through my clothes. It was the same water I'd sailed on so many times, the same water that surrounded that damned Spire, and probably the same water I'd trudged through time and time again in that wretched hellhole of a place called Wraithmarsh. I tried to avoid water, if I could, because it only reminded me of the depressing darkness in Rookridge, the rain that constantly fell, and, of course, my first love.

Why was I thinking about all of this now? I couldn't answer that with a good explanation. All I knew was that I felt no motivation, and I only wished for this balverine to finish me off. Sure, it was pretty pathetic for me, the Hero who had defeated Lucien and countless other predators, to let a puny balverine slash me to shreds. But what did I have to get up for? Nothing. The one person I loved had left me, I'd lost the only other creature that felt love for me – my beloved dog, Fate – and I felt completely useless now. I'd defeated Lucien and all of the other current threats in Albion… There was nothing left for me to do here. These people didn't need me. I'd saved them from everything they were oblivious to.

Maybe it was time for me to be with Rose again… Maybe I'd wake up in a cozy little home again as the carefree child I once was, and she'd be there to play games with me and run through that field of flowers, and we could play with Fate together and remember all of the fun we'd had, no matter how hard the times may have been. Maybe this time I wouldn't wake up from it again to Theresa's voice echoing in my head. Maybe it was time for me to go on to something better. Maybe death was my destiny today.

What else did I have here besides a bunch of property and gold? The homes I owned for my own personal use were empty, save for the furniture that only collected dust. I spent most of my time sitting alone in Brightwood Tower, or on the docks of Bloodstone, staring out at the shadow of the Tattered Spire, or at that Cullis Gate, sitting next to the last resting place of my most beloved and most loyal friend.

A sickening, threatening growl brought me out of my thoughts, sending shivers up my spine. But still, I didn't move. I let my eyelids fall again, and I took a few deep breaths. My arms lay out at my sides. I curled my exposed fingers, the wet gloves already sticking to my hands. It brought back the memory of that night, lying on that cobblestone path, when an old, blind woman stood above me, and a lonely but loyal dog licked at my hand, being one of the only beings alive that still had faith in me… He'd always had faith in me, no matter how many times I'd neglected to protect him properly and he'd been bludgeoned by a stray club thrown from a hobbe's hand, or slashed by a bandit's cruel sword; he still followed me and lead me and remained at my side.

I missed that creature far too much.

But now, as the presence of the balverine suddenly lifted, I only lay still, waiting for my impending doom. I heard the leaves on the tree nearby rustle as the balverine's weight rested on one of its branches, then lifted again as it leapt down. A stealthy and light thud next to my head told me the creature was now standing over me, waiting for my next move. I'd already swiped it numerous times with my sword, and I felt warm blood drip from its fresh wounds onto my face and roll down the curve of my cheek. Another low growl, the sound of saliva pooling in its throat. Its breathing alone almost made me sick.

I finally opened my eyes to acknowledge the dark-furred face of my killer. It scowled down at me, its eyes full of nothing but hunger and evil. Its paws rested in front of it, claws sharp and blood-stained. It breathed heavily, ready to attack and feed at any moment. It raised a threatening paw, about to swipe down onto my body and take me for its own.

Then, it was as if everything around me slowed down: I hadn't even noticed this figure emerge from the woods, but now he was here, and he stepped forward in a swift stride, his boots splashing in the shallow water that didn't even reach his ankles. He brought his other leg up and gave the balverine a rough kick to the chest, knocking the air from its lungs. It stumbled back, but quickly regained its composure (something I'd always hated about balverines) and prepared to attack this sword-bearing man. However, the man gave another half-step forward, then swung the shining blade of his sword towards the balverine. I saw his gloved hand gripping the handle, and his arm direct it to the perfect angles. Then, with one swift slice, it disconnected skin and fur and muscle, and the furry head flew from the body, landing in the deeper water a few yards away. The body then fell, splashing and succumbing to the depths of the water that swallowed it. And just like that, the creature was finished.

I could've done that.

My eyes were wide by this time, without me even knowing it, and I was staring up at this unknown man with fear and amazement. I was actually frozen now, unable to move from where I lay. Was this a bandit readying to loot me? Or something else?

With a pleased look upon his face, the man turned back towards me, then looked down. His eyebrows furrowed together with confusion and his face quickly turned to questioning as he looked me up and down, taking in the way I was lying in the shallow water of the shore, not moving, but watching his every move, the glowing Will Lines carving a lifetime's worth of experience over every part of my body. He saw the large, silver, glittering gun that lay beneath me, still strapped to my back, then noticed the glint from the sword that had abandoned my hand and now lay, half-way in the sand and half-way in the water, not far from my body.

I couldn't help but notice his astonishing features: his chiseled cheekbones, and his perfect, white teeth. His eyes glowed a spectacular green, and his hair was thick but cut short, an odd, natural mixture of blond and brown, and fell down across part of his forehead. His body was muscular and toned, and his back was equipped, like mine, with weapons: a crossbow and arrows, and a holster where his sword would be. A pistol rested on the belt at his waist. He stood a good half-foot taller than me, I could tell, and the way his legs and arms were toned and shaped, it looked as if he did this sort of thing everyday. He also had 4 long, white scars across the right half of his face, running across part of his nose, forehead, cheek, and eye. They only seemed to add to his appearance, though.

What stood out to me the most, however, was not his gift of appearance, nor his obvious strength… but the glowing, azure Will Lines that were etched all over his body. Most of his body was covered by trousers and high, thick boots, as well as a thick shirt and a longer coat over that, his hands adorned with thick, tight, crimson-colored gloves. His neck and face, though, showed bright, glowing Lines that lead down under his shirt, and I knew they didn't stop there. One of his coat sleeves had rolled up just slightly, and a bit of the skin of his arm was exposed, showing more of the azure Lines.

Was this another Hero? And if so, which one? Was he another Hero of Will, or Strength? Why hadn't this man been a part of my journey? Why hadn't he joined the ranks of Hammer, Garth, Reaver, and I? Why hadn't he helped me defeat Lucien and the trolls and the banshees?

I had so many questions for this man whose name I didn't even know.

Suddenly, there was a splashing near my body as something else padded into the water, then a warm tongue was licking my face, as if concerned. I looked out the corner of my eye and saw golden brown fur – a dog! And it looked nearly similar to my dear, departed Fate!

My eyes turned back to the man just as he opened his perfect mouth and spoke. "Are you alright? Do you need help up?"

His firm voice startled me. I wasn't used to another strong voice, not since I'd left the Spire. All of the villagers and bandits I'd encountered since then had weak voices that couldn't compare to that of a man with true power inside of him, like Garth or Reaver, or even Lucien. However, not only did he have this firm voice, but it was also smooth and beautifully accented, and seemed to make everything he said sound like the just the right thing.

I somehow found the ability to move again and I shook my head, feeling the weight of the water in my long, dyed-blue hair. Slowly, I lifted myself up on my elbows, feeling the water drop from my back and my hair. The dog stepped back, panting and wagging its tail happily.

"Fortune! Come!" the man ordered, and the dog quickly obeyed, rushing to its master's side and standing beside him proudly, still wagging its tail in elation.

I blinked, trying to regain my strength, then slowly stood up. Some water pooled into the bottom of my boots, and my clothes were mostly soaked, but other than that, I felt completely fine. I'd barely avoided a few swipes and scratches from the balverine's sharp claws.

Once I'd managed to stand up and regain enough energy and balance, I turned and faced the man, a look of confusion on my Will-marked face. I finally stammered out, "Wh-who are you?"

He smiled charmingly at me, his eyes sparkling. "I'm Brom, and this is Fortune," he gestured down at the dog standing faithfully at his side. "And you are?"

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and millions of questions. "I'm Sparrow."

I missed the presence of the dog I would be introducing at this point, but still silently added in my head, And this is my only friend, Fate.

Brom's eyes suddenly lit up, and his smile turned into an O of surprise. "Sparrow? The Hero?"

I nodded reluctantly, used to this by now, but still not liking it. I took this opportunity to ask my burning question, "A-are you a Hero, too?"

His face fell slightly, and his mouth cocked to an odd angle of confusion. "Well," he started hesitantly, obviously unsure of how to answer. "I suppose I am, or at least I've been told that I am, but I've never gone through the training, and I don't come from a Hero bloodline… And I've surely never been to the Guild or the Chamber of Fate… Unlike you."

I was silent to this, having come to dislike being reminded of my past and my bloodline. This man highly sparked my interest, though, and I had to know more; I had to find out as much as possible about him. Maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought.

"Would you like to come back to my farm? I've got a little cottage there," I invited him, referring to my home behind the Demon Door, Serenity Farm. "I'd like to find out more about you… and your friend here."

He looked at me oddly for a second, but his face soon took on a happily surprised look. "Sure! Thank you. Fortune and I would love that. Where is it?"

I smiled, bending down and picking up the sparkling Daichi that lay not far from my feet. "Follow me."

to be continued…


A/N: This is my first Fable fic. As I said in the summary, it's post-Fable II, and the female Sparrow. From the circumstances given, she obviously chose the Sacrifice wish, so she doesn't have her dog back. Anyway, there will be more chapters soon, so please review and tell me what you think! It will give me encouragement to go on! =]