((Hi there. Well, first the necessary warning, though if you are reading this on a site, by now you -must- suspect out of all the millions of fans out there, I'm not that one lucky person who owns this show. -pouts- Though seriously, we need to clone the pilots and each keep one. Anyways -- I don't own it, am not doing this for profit (but feed back is -so- adored), and even if the makers -did- sue me, they'd be getting nothing but a well loved collection of gundam collectors items anyway. So, please don't? Hope you enjoy the fic, it's my first one ever.

General little stuff.

The first chapter, prelude really, is in first person view. Enjoy, none of the others are. . It's just to get an idea across, then we get into the story. It is also the shortest section by quite a bit. And I will not be posting at the top of each chapter. You probably started with this one, so yeah, repetitive is boring.))

Hi. - Thoughts.

-And into Fayllen-

The air was frigid around me. That kind of cold pre-winter, just before the sun rises morning air that actually burns coming in and leaves you in a perfectly shaped little puff when you position your lips just right. It was chilly enough that beneath my make-shift cloak and far too thin shirt, I could feel knobs of flesh rising into painful goose bumps.

Today was probably going to be the first day of the season where hard working farmers would rise just a little later in the morn, then start to batten down windows and make sure their lands were prepared for ground frost tomorrow, and the people in the castle would be dashing around and laying thick, wool blankets over fancy royal beds while a large fireplace crackled warmly nearby and the future leaders of the country slept on. Outside both of these incredibly different lives and homes, both wood planks and well shaped stone bricks were covered with a thin layer of ice and would sting any person's questing who dared to touched before the golden sun rose and sent the cold scurrying away for one more day. In short, the kind of morning where I truly needed to get down to work and finally find a place for myself.

I suppose I'd been putting it off far to long this time, but since I'd still had a small bag of gold hanging from my belt from my last position, once again I'd taken that as an excuse to slack off. I did that each time I moved on or was told to move on, and each time I reminded myself not too. Undoubtedly next time would be exactly the same. It's not easy to remember mornings like this when you are laying on your back in some comfy inn bed and staring up at the rafters above you as the last of that thick honey wine you had last fades from your system and leaves your mind pristine and clear. Not easy at all, but I should know well enough to try. The gold always runs out too quickly and then it's back to another dusty road for me.

My last 'job' had actually lasted about six months before they'd asked me to leave in that kind, 'go now or we'll tie you up and send you out' way, a record by my count. It's not that I'm a bad person or anything, far from it actually! I may be a bit strange, and I'll admit my language can be damned course when given half a chance, and sure I look a little wild with my hair hanging in a loose braid down past my butt and my large eyes that I've been told look just a little too much like a fey's too be coincidence, but that's just small things I can't help and don't try too. Mostly it's that a lot of people don't feel uncomfortable with me around, and what I do for a living doesn't help that at all. There's just something about a half blood prophet that rubs a hell of a lot of people the wrong way in an amazingly short period of time. I don't blame them either, I bug myself given the right circumstances, but that's neither here nor there, right?

In any case, that lost job had been for the king in a country several dozen days travel from here, an unhappy and strict older fellow who was hell bent on capturing the land near his and making them his own, and had really wanted any kind of extra advantage he could get. It was one of those rare times I was actually hunted down for my services. I told him what he wanted to hear, which was the truth, and he moved on it. Within two months he'd quadrupled his lands and had a few thousand more followers living there. He couldn't gotten rid of me after that, but he wanted to be certain that none of the nobles he'd scared from their great mansions were holed up somewhere plotting his death. So, I stayed. I helped him find them, then I let him know what people were going to be trouble for him, and what communities were doubting his actions, and got paid really well for it. Blood money in some cases, like the nobles, but otherwise just your average job. He paid me well, but towards the end of those six months I could tell the money coming into my drafty little tower room was going to stop soon and I started hording it up for the inevitable. Five days later Mister 'I'm too powerful now to need a dirty thing like you as help' himself came strutting in with a few armed guards and informed me my services were no longer required and I was to be gone by tomorrow, then dropped my last little bag of money on the floor and went marching back down the winding stairs and into his clean castle and new life. I guess I'm still a little bitter about that one.

I was gone before night even fell, muttering and cursing to myself as I headed out of town and towards the little hamlet just a few miles away. I spent the first night too drunk to stand and in the arms of some dirty woman I paid god knows how much just to touch me… I was lucky I had my all my money when I woke if you ask me, but then again, she was pretty tipsy too. That still didn't stop the look of disgust that crossed her features when my dressing woke her though. Like I said, I just rub some people the wrong way. I think two gold, and outrageous price even when you do -do- the act, was worth it just to be held for one night by a stranger. Every now and then I just need to be reminded I'm not dead, you know?

Now as I walked through the leafless (and soon to be lifeless) trees, it was strangely back to her and the few others I'd done the same with that my mind turned. I don't think anyone can talk about rejection until they've had a woman run shrieking from the bedroom before you even took off your clothes, now that is insulting. I know it's not because I'm ugly, because modesty laid aside, I know I'm not. I've looked in a mirror. I could be wanted by a lot of people, I think. Hell, a lot of people have even given me tentative compliments, mostly about my hair before wincing back and moving on. If not for that demon blood within me and the generally dark aura that clings to my skin like a second shirt, I bet I'd be married to some wealthy broad and living on easy street. As it was though, I couldn't even sell myself if I tried. They might pay, but they'd change their minds before they got back to the inn or their house and I give it back without a word. I tried that once or twice when the money got really low and there didn't seem to be a new place to work right away… A person could starve to death with the luck I had at that business. That's not to say I've never known the more intimate touches of human life, I've managed that from time to time and I'm no virgin now, but there is a difference between sex and all the relationship stuff. I know sex, but romance, or at least my involvement in it, is somewhat of a mystery to me. The closest I can remember coming was on one of my first jobs when I was younger and just starting to decide I needed something more steady. I met some cute man while working for some noble and 'reading' his daughters futures. It was the guy's only son, this tall blonde with perfect hair nearly as long as mine is now, that I fell hard for… And for a while I thought he fell for me too. Being used is almost as bad as people screaming and running. That was one of the few times I left without being told too. Things just got way too tense watching the boy, Zechs his name was, walk around the house and look through me like I'd never existed in his world. That was also when I learned what I could and couldn't have. I could have temporary shelter, and I could have my dreams of holding someone and having them hold me back without a business agreement. I couldn't have a 'home' and I couldn't have love.

I never had a chance with that beautiful icy blonde, I know that now… But I also can't forget that I thought I did at one time. I was a fool for him, running where ever he asked and practically doing cartwheels if only to get him to smile at me. But at least I knew better now. And actually as cruel as this morning was, it reminded me of that empty smile I last got from the noble's child as I walked out of that town and vowed not to return.

-----

It was three hours later that at last the line of hibernating trees broke around the dusty figure and he emerged into soft sunlight like a shadow. Just before the dark clad prophet down in the valley lay the beginning of the Northern kingdom of Fayllen, shining like a precious jewel after his desolate walk. Large violet eyes that were nearly lost beneath a thick black hood scanned over the tidy little homes with smoke rising over them and then lifted to the beautiful white structure that stood on a hill a quarter of a mile away and looked over the town like a guardian. It was actually glowing as the sun continued it's ascent into the pale sky, made of white marble if he had to take a guess, and probably one of the nicer castles he'd come across in his seventeen years of travel. This had promise. A kingdom that looked this wealthy and cozy right from first glance was bound to have some troubles that he could help with. And with that hopeful thought in mind, he began heading down the slope of dried grass and towards the first stone cobbled street that reached his way.