A/N: Another major memory chapter, but it's needed to understand the rest of the story, so deal with it. The italics are the memories, in case you missed that the first few times I used them (italics, that is). Oh, and we finally get to find out what he looks like!

Disclaimer still applies, as you can tell by looking at the game. Actually, I don't remember if I put a disclaimer in this one...oh, well. I am now.


The fight was to be at noon, which meant I had the whole morning to prepare myself.

A whole morning to think about the events that led up to this. Everything from the time I had still been a normal child to being found by Lyndis on the Sacaen plains to this ultimatum. Memories I hadn't touched for years.

As I fished in my chest to find the outfit I knew was there, I thought about my early life.

My parents had died in a bandit raid on our village when I was five, too young to remember much. A man found me, took me with him, raised me as his own. He became my father, my world, and everything I knew came from him.

My fingers brushed the cloth and I tugged the pieces out, shaking them to get rid of the wrinkles.

The day came that he brought me to meet the man who was his boss. Brendan Reed. The leader of a group of assassins, the Black Fang. I was told this was my new home, that this was where I belonged. Thus was it that I became an assassin, quickly climbing in the ranks and earning everyone's fear and respect. My first mission was when I was fifteen.

I was eighteen when I was given what was to be my last mission as an assassin: kill the son of the Marquess of Worde. I went obediently, spending almost a year getting close to the young man, gaining his trust.

I stripped my green robes off, discarding them carelessly to one side as I pulled the other clothes on instead.

Then I received the letter that the assassination was to take place within the next fortnight. For a week and a half I deliberated, battling between my loyalties to the Black Fang and my newfound attraction to the target.

Eventually, my training won out and I left Worde with the blood of a young man I had loved on my hands.

I never forgave the Black Fang for making me do what I had done and soon after, I left. Returning to the land of my birth, I applied to train as a tactician, knowing that the Black Fang would be furious and would hunt me down with all their might. Several years passed with no word of any pursuit, but I knew better than to relax.

I opened the hidden compartment of the chest, pulling out the two identical sheaths. Sliding the blades out, I swung them experimentally, getting a feel for the grips and balance. I hadn't used them in a long time, but my training came back as if it had only been a day since I'd practiced maneuvers with them.

Finishing my training as a tactician, I wandered, looking for any who required my services. Unfortunately, Elibe was in a time of peace and there weren't many who required the services of a tactician. On one of my excursions through Sacae, I misjudged my endurance and fainted on the plains.

When I woke up, it was to an unexpected scene of the inside of a tent and the worried face of a girl several years my junior. Her name was Lyndis and she was the sole survivor of the Sacaen tribe, the Lorca. Then two cavaliers showed up and the situation got more confusing, though the fact that my services as a tactician would actually be useful on their journey was crystal clear. I agreed to travel with them and we started our adventure to Caelin.

After we had secured everything at Caelin a few months later, I left to continue my wanderings. A year later, though, I found myself in Lycia once again, in the company of a young lord I had met when I had been with Lyndis. He also requested for my aid, so I consented to travel with him and help him in any battles he might encounter.

In that entire time, though, Lyndis had been the only one who had seen my face without the green tactician's robe being in the way.

Finding the two loops meant for just this, I fastened the knives to my belt and closed the trunk, straightening up.

So. Now I was paying the price for my paranoia. Hiding my face behind the robes had been my way of making sure someone from the Black Fang wouldn't somehow recognize my, regardless of how many years had passed. The price had been the lower level of trust in the people who followed me and now, even that was nearly nonexistent.

They wanted a fight. They would get it

The unsheathed knives hung from my belt as I looked in the small mirror I owned, wondering what I looked like without the green veil. It had been a while since I had seen my own reflection not distorted by the movement of water.

Silver eyes stared back at me from a face that rather reminded me of Legault's, without the scar. My steel blue-gray hair was loosely gathered into a long ponytail that hung to the small of my back, with shorter strands hanging down the sides of my face.

I couldn't help but remember another time I had looked at myself in the mirror, just after my last mission, before I had returned to the Black Fang's hideout. Then, I had seemed so much younger, shocked at what I had done and terrified of what I might do. Though the eyes that stared back into mine in the present weren't filled with horror, I could identify apprehension and something else as I dwelled on the thought of the fight that would take place today.

Who would they choose for me to fight? Who would I have to take up arms against?

Karel, perhaps. He was the best swordsman we had, after all. Or maybe Legault. The assassin was still fighting fit, for all that he was old for an assassin.

I frowned at the thought of fighting Legault and my reflection frowned with me. Legault didn't know who I was, though I knew who—and what—he was better than anyone else did.

After all, he had been one of the Four Fangs when I'd still been with the Black Fang.


A/N: Hmm…so now we finally know what the heck Verian looks like. It was hard to put in any earlier due to this whole thing being written in first person and all. This was probably one of my favorite parts to write, simply because I could have fun with Legault's reactions to Verian when he realized who he was.

Gues what? I'm updating another chapter! As in, two in the same day! So read on!

Haliaetus