DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, Nintendo does.
The Taliver Bandits were coming; the moan of their mountain horns spread across the level plains of Sacae like water during the rainy season. The man knew very well that this would be the end of the Lorca; the Taliver left no survivors. A pain shot through the man's chest as he gave a small laugh at the thought of what Wallace would say to him if he were there. "You can never let your guard down, or you'll face the consequences." His old friend's words echoed through his mind as the horns did across the plains, distant, but ominous. Wallace could have taken on these brigands by himself. "So could I," he murmured wistfully.
"But you can't," he heard Wallace say. "You can't even stand." The man knew his friend was right; it was his fault that the tribe had drunk the water. They had come upon the well after three days' travel. The dry season was bad this year, and water was scarce. He had thought the well water had tasted foul, but he had let his thirst overcome him. He had failed in his duty as chief to the tribe, and, worse, he had failed Lyn. He rolled his head to the side and looked at his daughter, the image of her beautiful mother. Her long, midnight-black hair fell across her sleeping form, and she moaned gently. She had drunk more of the water than he had and was feeling its affects more strongly.
"Such a fitting end for a failure like you," Wallace growled. As the sound of the horns grew stronger, so did the voice of his friend. "You've failed your tribe, you've failed your daughter, and you've failed Madelyn. You've failed Madelyn!"
"No," the man said weakly.
"You've failed her! You promised to protect Lyn, yet now that the moment comes, you won't even get off your back for her!"
"But I can't…" the man gasped, but this enraged the voice even more.
"I disobeyed our lord, gave up my rank, and was banished from Caelin so that you and Madelyn could have a life together, because I thought that she meant something to you. Apparently I was wrong; you won't even help her daughter!"
"No," the man cried out, his lungs burning for more air, "I will not fail Madelyn!" He struggled to his feet, his heart pounding. He picked up Lyn, who moaned, "Father," in her fevered sleep. He carried her out of the tent, moving towards the horse corrals. He gulped in air as his body called out in pain.
The horses did not seem to have been affected by the water. He untied his horse and used the rope to strap Lyn to its back.
"Run far, Yel," he whispered, and the horse began to trot away. "Run!" he called out, and the horse began to gallop, crossing the flat plains quickly. He collapsed onto the ground his strength expired. "I'm coming, Madelyn…" he breathed.
In a farmhouse in a land far to the south, Wallace leapt out of bed, his solid body drenched in sweat. "What's the matter, milord?" His servant was standing at the door with a candle.
Take a message to the marquess immediately," Wallace said vaguely, as if he were somewhere far away. "Tell Lord Hausen that we are too late; Hassar is dead."
