A/N: After nearly a month, I resume this fanfic. I am working on another one, as you may have noticed. How come the miscellaneous anime section has no Fire Emblem fics? Somebody needs to remedy that fast!
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Kyree sat at the table in the main room of the cottage, grinding herbs and thinking. Who was this mysterious young man she now found a part of her life, had why had he insisted she would never believe his story? Could he not be trusted? Kyree began grinding more viciously, as if her pestle was a weapon. If this man was anything like Jeron, he couldn't. That name immediately evoked anger and despair at the same time. Perhaps it would be better to think of something else. She looked around the room. Ethan was quietly mending a pair of trousers at his workbench. She could not see her patient, who was hidden by the curtain that serving as a wall around the bed.
Kyree heard a faint cry coming from the direction of the young man's bed. She dashed to his side, to find him awake and in a sweat, a terrified look on his face. "Are you all right?" she asked gently, dipping the cloth that still lay on the table into the bowl of water she'd left there.
"I had an awful dream," he murmured as Kyree bathed his face with the cool water. "I'm thankful to be awake."
Kyree nodded. "Dreams can be frightening, especially if they're the kind that seem real. Would it help if you told me about it?"
"My parents, Ellis, Nadia.....I watched them all die...."
Kyree looked a little puzzled, but still sympathetic. "I do not know these people, but dreaming of death is never pleasant. They're obviously people you care about, too."
He managed a slight nod. "Yes. They have all been dead for quite some time now, but every little reminder is painful. Ellis was my sister, and Nadia, the woman I loved." He looked as if he was about to cry.
Kyree brushed aside his bangs tenderly. "My parents died too, during the war. Did war also take your family?"
"Yes," Marth said, barely above a whisper. "Nadia as well." He wondered why he was revealing his troubles to a near stranger, yet he was comforted by it. He could finally be honest with someone, as this girl knew nothing of his royal status. He was sure she would not mock him.
"I have also fallen in being left by one love and lost," Kyree remarked. "Jeron and I were to be married. He was the son of a wealthy merchant, yet he swore it didn't matter that I came from a poor family. Shortly before the wedding, he came knocking at the door only to say he no longer wished to marry me because he'd found someone he thought was more worthy of himself than a half-trained healer. I don't know what caused him to suddenly decide I wasn't good enough for him, but it doesn't matter anymore. He left town, and I've not seen him since." Kyree looked disgusted at the memory.
"What a horrible thing to do!" Marth cried with more enthusiasm than his weakened body could handle. He groaned and lay back. "Was there no other explanation than that?"
Kyree shook her head. "No, that was all he said. It is possible he was pressured by his haughty family to break of the engagement, or maybe taunted by his friends. Whatever the case, as I said, it doesn't matter. I don't care."
"Your voice and your face say otherwise," Marth observed.
Kyree sighed. "It still hurts," she confessed. "I thought he was the most wonderful man in the world, so if he will not love or accept me, why would anyone else?"
"Because he is a fool. I know far too many people like that. They value wealth and rank over what's in the heart. I don't understand it."
"Nor do I."
"Another thing I don't understand," he remarked, "is when you said you were only 'half-trained'. If you are not a properly trained healer, what is?"
She took a deep breath and began. "I was apprenticed to a doctor in the city. He was a good master, and I an eager pupil. But when the war broke out, he was called to serve as an army doctor, so I had to return home without completing my training. I still regret not being able to finish learning what I needed to know, but after Ethan lost his foot, I was needed here to care for him and our home. The people around here don't mind my incomplete training, though. For more serious ailments and injuries, they usually go to someone in the city for help, but I seem to suit them just fine for small afflictions."
As their conversation ended, they heard a knock at the door. "I'll get that," Ethan called, as he was seated closer to the door.
"No," Kyree responded. "I'm already up, so I'll answer." She had indeed gotten up, to get a mug of water for Marth.
The visitor turned out to be the neighbor's wife, Marisse. She was tall and slightly overweight, with frizzy blond hair and a particularly frenzied expression. She appeared out of breath. "I came here as soon as I heard the news," Marisse panted.
"What news?" Kyree asked, curious. Ethan snorted from behind her, scowling.
"You and your gossip, Marisse. Kyree, don't listen to it. Whatever she has to say is likely some wild rumor. You know very well she tends to be unbelievably innacurate."
Marisse gave him a nasty glare. "Don't pay him any attention," Kyree advised. "Come in and tell me what's so important.
"Kyree, this is serious, dangerous even. The prince has disappeared."
