I don't own Suikoden, Konami does, lucky bastards.

The Long Road Home

Caleria loomed dusty and crowded at the bottom of the hill, abuzz with the scurry of humanity. Wincing at the noise after the silence of the mountain path, she brushed the yellow dust out of her black hair, once again surprised at how free the new haircut made her feel. She had cried a little when the barber in Le Buque had cut it, 20 years of black silk on the floor, 20 years of her life cut away. She'd felt so strangely unbalanced, so light when he was done and she asked him where she could sign up for the Harmonian mercenary army, but now she was once again filled with the self assuredness that had fueled her for so long. Straightening her clothes, she walked through the boarder town and straight up to the narrow entrance of the Harmonian Boarder Defense Force headquarters. Sliding up to the desk with practiced grace, she said the line she'd been rehearsing to herself for the past 11 months.

"I'd like a job,  the name is Queen."

"Experience?" The older, battle scared Calerian man glared at her from under his shadir, looking her up and down.

"Three years the Crystal Guards and 12 of fencing practice." She lied, trying to perfect the nonchalant slouch she'd seen on other mercenaries. Well, she had had 12 years of fencing practice, but she didn't think that the kind of dainty, honorable duel fighting her father had insisted she learn was going to cut it here. Fortunately, she was a good brawler, and she wasn't above fighting dirty when she had to.

"Crystal Guards? Never heard of them." Queen held her breath. He snorted and looked down at his list. "Well, we are short this month… let's see if you know how to use that thing."

He got down from behind the booth and drew a large, curved sword with practiced ease. Queen smiled beatifically and drew her own long, thin rapier, hoping he couldn't see how petrified she was. He looked at her for a second, sword at his side.

"Begin."

It was all she could do to fend off his first strike; the word was barely out of his mouth when he lunged at her, aiming to disarm her. Queen defended wildly as he drove her back, leaning in and using his superior height and weight to push down on her. After a minute, though, Queen had adjusted to his pattern and began to attack as well as defend. He feigned a thrust and swiped at her left side. Queen dropped and rolled so that she was now behind him. Jumping to her feet, she got a touch in on his back before he spun around and knocked off her feet with a flying kick. She hit the ground moving and quickly swung to a defensive crouch, parrying his deathblow with her hilt. Smiling, she kicked his feet out from under him and leaned in to deliver a blow to his now undefended chest.

The next thing she knew she was on her back with his sword pressed against her throat. Her ribs ached where he a kicked her as he had sprung up at the last minute, spoiling her thrust and tossing her off balance long enough for him to pin her with his foot and catch her in a final blow. Closing her eyes in defeat, Queen released her sword. Satisfied that he had one, the man removed his foot and left her to get up.

Queen pulled herself up slowly, trying to avoid moving her bruised midriff. She thanked every one of her luck stars that she had decided to spring for that new chain mail in Le Buque, without it she surely would have broken a few ribs. By the time she had pulled herself up, the man had resituated himself behind the recruitment desk.

"You're too slow, and your style is too fancy. You'll need to work on your speed and do some strength exercises to get some more power in your thrust, because it was just pathetic. Can you do any magic?" Queen shook her head. "Pity, that have made up for some of your failings."

Queen felt her stomach tighten, had she failed? Was running away from home and walking through the mountains all for nothing? Her hands began to shake a little and she clinched them into fists. She would never show weakness. She was so busy planning her next move in her head, maybe she could find work in the grass lands doing caravan work, that she didn't hear the rest of the man's speech.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, you can start next week. Unit 12 just lost their second front swordsman and Ace has been bugging me for weeks to get them a replacement. They're a solid unit, so they should be able to whip you into shape pretty fast. You're expected to provide your own gear, so will you need an advance on your pay for supplies?"

"No sir."

"Alright, they'll be in late tonight. You'll meet Captain Geddoe here at sunrise. If you're late they'll leave without you and you're fired. Don't show up drunk. Dismissed."

The man looked back down at his books and did not look at her again. Queen stood there, flabbergasted. Then she picked up her bag and slowly walked to the inn. She'd done it. She was a mercenary, an independent woman. After getting a room, she spent the rest of the money she'd managed to save from home and bought herself a bottle of ale and a meal. She spent the rest of the night quietly drinking until long after sundown. Then she asked to be woken at sunrise and made her way unsteadily to her room. Below, she could hear a boisterous group enter, demanding drinks. She shook her head, glad she'd gotten out when she did. She was too tired and drunk to go boxing men's ears when they didn't understand that no meant no. Taking off her boots and her armor, she slept peacefully for the first time since leaving her father's house.  She'd left the little girl behind with her dresses and her long hair. She was Queen now, a mercenary fighter, and before she drifted off to sleep, she promised herself that she would never be holden to anyone besides herself ever again.