Fire Emblem and any of its original characters and original storyline do NOT belong to me.

Lordmaguareion – Waah sorry, I meant to call him Mark-cries from stupid mistake-My mistake that I forgot to change the name before I put it up –hug- thanks for noting that –hugs again- Yes, universal names should stay the same, lol, I was gonna call 'im something different but then I said "nah" but in the end I forgot, heheheh... -is forgetful- XD
The storm had finally passed; after such a night Lyn was surprised she managed to get back with the young unconscious man in one piece.

It was a relaxing, rewarding feeling to know that she had saved another, though at the moment it was quite debatable. The young man was bedridden with bandages around his forehead, arms and chest, covered with white bed sheets. His fingers were trembling and had cold sweat on his body. He was mumbling foreign words that Lyn could not understand all the while tossing, turning, coughing, twitching… she was really worried if he would survive. He was in such a grave state.

Lyn opened her door to let some of that cool fresh breeze into her home and stretched her arms. Nothing was more refreshing than the meadow after it had rained; a rich, beautiful scent that could sooth the soul. Lyn's deep forest green eyes scanned the plains, where a shallow mist blanketed. The sun had just dawn, peeping over through the Bern Mountains ahead. She was surprised that the storm had not caused as much damage as she half-expected; only a few young trees were ripped from the earth and the meadow grass and flowers seemed uneven and in dismay. But, alas, the storm did leave a mark on her beautiful Plains, and it was enough to make Lyn a little poignant.

A soft moan from the other room grabbed Lyn's attention. She closed the door, and approached the almost-lifeless young man. He was still in pain, it was evident. He was beginning to gasp for small amounts air, as though something was choking him. He was like this all night - Lyn narrowed her eyes with pity and sadness - struggling to stay alive.

Lyn couldn't help but feel useless - she could only clean his wounds, nothing more. She wanted to help him, ease his pain somehow; though at the moment it seemed futile. But just standing here, watching? Do something! She sighed, her mind telling her that she did all she could, though she felt that she could have done more.

Having nothing else to do she returned to her other main room, and came back with a cloth and bowl filled with warm water. This, I could at least do. She thought to herself taking her seat next to the young man. She gently dabbed the cloth into the bowl, patting his forehead to wash the cold sweat from his face.

Lyn tilted her head slightly in a curious manner while attending to him. He looked to be about the same age, if not, at least a year younger or older than she was. His structure was that of a man that did not work out heavily like a warrior, but of a man that was fast and agile. He was actually diminutive in size and a bit skinny as though he had not eaten for a few days. His skin was pale, and had black shadows under his eyes.

Lyn guessed he might have been just slightly shorter than her. She took her hand and placed his honey-colored bangs to the side of his face taking a better look at him. His face was that of a man with a kind heart; a face that would never get involved in war or politics, a face of calm demure, a face of innocence (which is not seen in many men, Lyn added with a half-smile). But then again, Lyn reminded herself, even the most innocent kind face could be a deceiving scoundrel, though at the moment it was hard to think him as one.

She started to wonder why he was in such a state. Where did he come from? She placed aside her curious questions that could wait until later when (hopefully) this young man regained consciousness.

When Lyn finished, she placed the bowl away onto the desk beside the bed. All the chores she had done were already finished in advance prior from the approaching storm yesterday. Lyn glanced at the young man again, and couldn't help but smile slightly, but feel a little guilty.

It actually felt good to have someone here for once.

…It felt good not to be completely alone.

The feeling overwhelmed him.

He had expected it to be burning hot to the point his skin would melt, or feel the claws and teeth of teetering demons, or at least… something dreadful and painful. But no, he felt… comfortable? What is this! Is Hell supposed to feel like this?

He gathered his senses, and slowly opened his eyes, feeling awfully dizzy at first. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times so he could at least see where he was. He turned his head, squinting when he suddenly looked into the rays of the sun from the window shortly across from him–

Then he heard it. Birds chirping, a light breeze sweeping the grassland…

This was definitely not hell.

He managed to sit up, but already he noticed that his strength had not fully returned to him, but took caution to keep balance when he tried to stand, though wobbly at first. It was like he forgot how to walk, and in the end he ended up tumbling over the bed sheet that caught under his foot when he tried to walk.

He moaned, even though it was just a slight fall, it resulted in some discomfort in his body. Taking the ledge of the window, he pulled himself up, welcomed by the amiable adoring light of the sun.

He thought he would never see the light of day again, and he had never felt blissful reprieve in such a long time. It felt so good to see the lush green grass and flowers (though they were a bit all over the place after that storm) and trees (though some were snapped in half and some gone). To a typical person, this would seem like havoc. But for him, nothing could bring him more joy. Funny, in a way.

What is this place? A common question came to him, and then he realized that he could not answer it. It suddenly occurred to him that he was in a home. He felt very stupid for not noticing that in the first place, but he couldn't answer that either; he didn't remember anything. He looked down at his body, only wearing his pants. One of his feet were bandaged, he noticed that it was badly stubbed. That explained his limping. He felt the bandage around his chest that wrapped around under his arm. He looked at the window again, focusing on his almost invisible reflection, and felt the bandage around his head.

More and more questions suddenly piled one after another, and he was perplexed yet anxious how and when he came to be here. Questions kept on coming, until one dreadful question reached his mind:

…Who am I?

Just at the instant sharp acute pain surged his body so suddenly. It caused him to jerk backwards and fall onto the floor, back against the wall grasping his stomach, screaming. Something electrified him with pain – it worsened when he tried to resist it by holding in his cries, which he struggled at doing. He was not a screamer, and he would soon abide by that, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood just to hold them in. Flashbacks rapidly raced in his mind – flashbacks he couldn't remember at the same time.

Amongst the flashes he noticed a deep, menacing sound which resembled a deep laugh echoing in his mind. He suddenly grew hate and loathe – but why? He couldn't remember! Was he supposed to hate someone? What's happening! HELP!

He shut his eyes, taking deep breaths as he started to realize that the pain was ebbing away very slowly, along with the seemingly mocking laugh. He tried to calm himself, like he had awakened from a nightmare, only he was awake.

In fear and in confusion, in this alien place, he huddled against the wall, eyes wide and trembling, unable to control his shaking. What was happening? He felt so utterly alone.

"Are you alright! I heard you scream!" Lyn's voice came when she ran into the room, abandoning her wood-chopping from outside. She bent down beside the terrified young man, hesitating whether or not she should place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him in any way. He looked so scared…

When he looked at her, Lyn was totally caught off guard and felt herself jump from his dominating, yet terrified gaze.

Behind his deep honey-colored hair was his two eyes... each a different color? His left eye was rich, orange-golden mixed amber, whereas his right eye was a ravishing beautiful amethyst violet. It wasn't the time to think this, but he was handsome… and oh boy was his gaze electrifying. She then felt terrible for her manner. He didn't respond, but simply looked away in shame and in shyness.

"Calm yourself… just take deep breaths, and relax…" She told him. He obeyed – not that she needed to tell him. Lyn tried to smile, and show little concern but she failed, "Hey, it's okay... I found you unconscious on the plains last night, do you remember?"

Lyn might not have intended it, but he felt like that was a slap on the face; he couldn't remember anything, and that only brought more confusion and frustration, though he kept his manner calm-like, yet still frightened like a child.

Lyn had helped him up back to bed because he was still apparently weak. He still had not talked to her.

Lyn smiled at him warmly, "Are you okay now?"

He looked at her, but looked away, unable to keep eye contact. Lyn just smiled, though feeling a bit foolishly hurt. "You had me scared for awhile, you know." She tried to start a conversation, or hoped to, "I honestly didn't think you'd make it."

He didn't answer. Lyn was a bit downhearted.

He looked at her with that evident look that wanted answers. Lyn gave a friendly smile, "This is the Sacae Plains. There was a storm last night, and I went to look for one of my sword markers but then I found you instead..." She hoped that was enough, because that was honestly all she knew. There was an awkward silence.

He glimpsed at her, "...You found me?"

Lyn was thankful he could talk, because she felt silly doing all the talking. "…Yes, you were in a terrible state. I found you just on time."

"…How… long? How long have I been out?" He asked again in a hushed voice.

Lyn narrowed her eyes, "For a few days now."

"…A few days?" He countered that as though he was trying to be surprised. Lyn nodded.

"Yes. I can imagine you must be hungry... is there anything you like in particular, sir…?" She hinted for his name. He looked at her vacantly for a few seconds, not knowing how to tell her he can't remember anything about anything so simple like food, or even himself.

It suddenly came to him.

"M…" The word suddenly came out of nowhere from the back of his mind, and truth be told it sparked a bit of hope in him. "K…ah…"

"…Mark?" Lyn finished for him.

The young man, Mark, looked at Lyn with surprise.

Lyn's smile faded away. "When I found you, you were carrying nothing but a scroll… I'm afraid that when you fell, it tore and is destroyed beyond repair from the water damage. When I opened it, I could only decipher a few words, including 'Mark'… I'm truly sorry."

"No need to apologize, milady." He said, surprising himself once again from his sudden formalities. Besides, he couldn't remember anything. That scroll probably wouldn't have been very important… if it was, he was sure he would have taken better care of it, like say, oh put it in a bag shielded from the rain.

He then looked at her, still cautious, yet vividly curious, "…What is your name?"

Lyn beamed, "My name is Lyn."

She never thought the smile of a complete stranger would melt her heart.

A couple days passed by, and Mark (who told Lyn to call him whatever she wanted after her remark that his name was 'strange-sounding'… which he didn't take personal, but Lyn felt terrible otherwise to her new guest.)

He had noticeably regained his strength, not all of it, but most of it, and his anti-social outlook at Lyn had changed, and he seemed to be a little more open when speaking. Since everything was new to him he constantly, yet shamefully, asked her questions. Lyn found this to be quite rather amusing that he did not know what a simple thing like an orange or chair was. He seemed to take interest in Lyn's sword and surprisingly he knew much about it. She couldn't help but be taken off guard by his enthusiasm with weapons – he just didn't look the type!

But yet, to engage with a conversation with him was still a bit of a challenge. He was usually silent, but he didn't need to say anything. She could tell he was unsure, and still very confused. Lyn couldn't honestly blame him for this – he had been through a lot, and the poor man could not remember anything after last night, just his name.

He had all the right to be cautious, and Lyn had suddenly felt the duty to help Mark follow the right path, since he lost his memory he could be vulnerable to the bad-doers and be used. He was actually fortunate that Lyn found him instead of the local bandits would it then he'd be in quite a dilemma.

As for clothes, Lyn was nice enough to lend Mark some of her father's old wardrobe (which were all almost pretty too big for Mark, poor guy was so embarrassed…) until she found a nice brown and grey shirt that fit him nicely. He still had his own pants, which Lyn stitched (she blushed like a cherry when Mark asked her how she did) and still had his green tunic that covered a good portion of his body like a poncho. His honey-colored hair was just long enough for him to tie back, and he had removed the bandage around his forehead so all that remained was a small scar.

Aside from his belt with pockets that contained tiny slips of shredded paper and small gadgets, and a scroll that was destroyed, that was pretty much all he had. Not even a weapon, which bewildered Lyn.

"You could get killed by the brigands." She cursed that name, "if they ever found out you didn't have a weapon… it's not as safe nowadays, sadly." She heaved a deep sigh, wondering if Mark got jumped by brigands before she found him, but it was too early to say anything yet.

Mark just nodded, not having quite a lot to say since he pretty much knew nothing and felt nothing less like a mindless six year old. He just observed things, something he was good at, which ranged from the house formation to the tiny designs on the chair. Yes, he was very observant, and he had not realized this just yet.

Mark watched Lyn the next day training outside with her sword; her blade was practically slicing through the air. She graciously flowed with the wind, her speed almost legendary. Her long scenic green hair swayed with the sword moves she performed, and her dress-like blue outfit flowed along too, not that Mark wanted to see anything… he was actually intent to see Lyn's skill.

Excellent at speed, he observed; fast moving, quick reflexes, excellent stage with the sword. She would be a good fighter against heavy wielders who in which she could easily dodge, but if she was hit even just once, the damage would be greater compared to others with less speed… plus she doesn't wear that much armour…

He blinked. Did he just think all that?

Lyn looked at the window, which Mark just managed to nimbly duck before she could see him witnessing her talent. She shrugged her shoulders, and continued her self-training. Mark sighed with relief that she did not see him, though he failed to notice the small smile on her face.

He sat on the floor, not daring to look again, though just hearing the swishes of her sword was enough. He deemed Lyn as a strong-willed young woman. He could tell behind her compassionate forest green eyes, there was something more beyond that. Strong, powerful, determined – he couldn't figure out why, a girl with such ambition would be stuck, alone, at a place like this – not that there was anything wrong with it. Someone as beautiful as Lyn would usually be trotting about, making a legend out of herself or be known, at the very least.

But he supposed in this case, it was different.

She seemed to love the plains with all her heart, and that, he admired.

Up near the mountains, four men pressed down the slopes, one of which accidentally tripped, tumbling into the other and then the two into the other until the reached the bottom, which was a good 50 feet. Their leader watched and rolled his eyes as the three argued childishly.

"You idiot! What you do that for!"

"Rhanu tripped first!"

"Pffft! It's because Jaen jinxed me!"

"What the hell! I never spoke to you, Rels, or even look back at you, I did not!"

"Liar!"

"SILENCE! ALL OF YOU!" Their leader suddenly boomed above them, standing on a boulder leaning forward, resting his ax arm on his knee. The three lackeys looked up, all murmuring at the same time a forced out: "sorry, boss…"

"Now you clowns either smarten up or I'll use your heads as paper weights! You understand me you knuckleheads?"

"Yes boss…" All three murmured again like robots. The leader grinned scuffling his unshaved shin and licking his teeth. He gazed out to the plains until a small house caught his eyes. He grinned to himself.

"Well well well…" He smirked at his fellow henchmen, "Looks like a fortunate Lorca termite survived. You boys up for some fun?"

They all exchanged glances, and grinned, bearing their axes.

When Lyn finished her training, she noticed that Mark had nothing to do. She then offered to play a game of chess – a game in which she had not played for ages. Mark merrily accepted.

It was during chess when Mark had finally earned the gut to ask about Lyn… of course, he asked her when he beat her at chess for the millionth time. It seemed less stressing… on his part.

"My gracious! Your skills are profound when it comes to planning moves. I see one trap you set out, then I move, but then suddenly there are five other traps I do not realize." She grinned, "You are quite skilled at the way of war for someone who's never been in a battlefield."

It suddenly clicked, though Mark could not put a finger to that certain something about himself just yet, "I never said I've not been on a battlefield." He corrected, flickering his deep honey-colored hair concealing his amber eye. "I just don't remember, that's all…"

"Well, I find by your attire when I found you, are a traveler of some sorts… perhaps you learned to trades?"

"…Perhaps…" Though his heart denied it. He was something more than just a mere traveler.

They reset the chess pieces for another game; Mark black, Lyn white. She moved her knight first.

"But you are clearly skilled with your sword." Mark said, truly astounded by her speed and skill, almost seemingly legendary by his standards, "where have you attained such skill?"

In such a casual way he took out Lyn's bishop. Lyn tried not to react, and act nonchalantly.

"Part of it was self-taught, the other…" she hesitated, "I learned from my father and some other members of the Lorca…"

She moved her pawns.

"The Lorca?" Mark implored, feeling foolish for the gaziollionth time. He moved his king.

Lyn went silent. "Yes. The Lorca, that's my tribe…" She continued moving pawns.

Mark looked at her, suddenly silent. He saw right through her. "I'm taking that something had happened…?"

Lyn would not soon show tears, but just smiled it off. "You guess right," she moved her queen, "A few months ago my tribe was slaughtered by a band of brigands…" She laughed casually, but he knew she was trying to hide the pain. "Ah, you don't want to hear my dull story…"

"I do not think it is dull." Mark said simply, "Go on."

Lyn looked half surprised, but she guessed she shouldn't have, "…My father was the chieftain, and well… needless to say, me being a woman, no one would follow a woman into battle…"

Sadness had suddenly overwhelmed her; her voice sinking, "My people are old-fashioned, following a woman? That was never talked about. I really wanted to protect my people... The brigands… slaughtered everyone."

Mark saw the flash of anger in Lyn's eyes, concealed with regret and guilt. "…If only I was stronger…"

Lyn tightened her fist, "There were no survivors, just me and a handful, but they are gone now… I've been alone for six months…"

The room suddenly went still and full of silence.

Mark felt the need to talk, almost feeling how Lyn felt; losing someone. Perhaps he had lost someone close to him, too?

"I'm truly sorry for your loss. I really am." He finally spoke sadly with a sincere sympathetic gaze. Lyn looked into his mystifying amber and amethyst eyes. Strange how he brought her so much comfort… a complete stranger. This feeling, not being alone, overwhelmed her suddenly. She had to look away to hide her watering eyes, but laughed it off, feeling like an idiot.

"I'm sorry… It's just…"

"Don't be." Mark smiled, then added "checkmate."

Lyn was caught off guard, blinking. "Eh?"

Mark had his queen right at her king, and on the otherside the bishop could pulverize her if she tried to move. There was a cheeky pawn that was diagonal from her that she could easily dismiss – but by doing so, Mark's knight could take her down.

"…You never cease to amaze me." Lyn ended with a chuckle, "You win."

Mark and Lyn laughed together. Lyn felt her grief ebb away instantly. She looked at Mark with tearing eyes; she wished her life was full of happiness, full of hope. Whenever he was around, she felt, well…

The moment was abruptly interrupted when the sound of shattering glass was heard. Lyn leaped out of her seat, dazzled from the sound and ran into the other room. Mark felt clueless and just followed her into the main.

He turned the corner –

"Mark, duck!"

Mark blinked, and then landed onto his hands and knees when a giant rock was hurled towards him right through the already-broken window, just inches from missing his head. Mark was stunned by the size of the rock that plummeted next to him, which formed four fists put together. That must have meant the opposed had brute strength.

"You okay?" Lyn asked from the otherside, Mark nodded. Both of them froze.

"Ooooh yooo whoo…" A derisive voice cooed mockingly. "Is anyone home?"

Mark and Lyn exchanged glances at the unfamiliar voice.

The man awed childishly with his lackey's laughing and sneering in the background,

"Come on now. Batta the Beast just wants to play."

I know it may seem a bit tedious at first and things slightly changed around… but bear with me here I'm trying to be creative. I've got to get some character development going, but hey action is coming up so check up here sometime! Gwaah… I rushed in a few places… -cries-

Thanx for wasting your time for reading my fic. –hugs and kisses- Luv y'all (if there is anyone out there reading this…. ) XD