Mark remained largely silent on their journey to the shrine nearby. It gave him the opportunity to learn more about Lycia from Sain, who was more than happy to talk endlessly about his homeland, its political situation, and his many conquests of the fair women of Caelin. Mark suspected most of them were imagined, but he allowed it anyway. The majority of his spoken words on the trip were to ask Lyn for directions or to check on the status of their supplies.

They didn't run into any trouble on the way to the shrine itself. Whether it was the presence of two armed and armored knights and their powerful horses or simply that there were no bandits in that area didn't matter to Mark. All that mattered to him was that Lyn was, for the time being, safe.

It transpired that the length of their trip was measured in hours rather than days, and the reached the outskirts of the shrine before the sun began to set. Once they came into view of the shrine and Sain had, for now, run out of things to say, Mark turned to Lyn. She had been walking next to him for the entire journey, putting Mark in between her and the knights.

"Tell me about this shrine," he said to her.

"It's a shrine to one of our gods. It houses a sacred sword that the people of Sacae pray over for safety before a long journey." Her voice was nostalgic. Mark guessed that this was a tradition she had been told of by her parents and it brought up memories of them.

"Oh, what a quaint custom!" said Sain. Mark bit back a groan and flashed him a look to try to quiet him. If Sain noticed he didn't respond.

"The teachings of St. Elimine have the most followers in Elibe, and especially in Lycia," said Kent quickly. Mark expected he was trying to cut off any offense caused by Sain's words. "It is nice to see there are still places where the ancient customs are observed." Further discussion was interrupted as an older woman came rushing up to them and stopped short in front of Lyn. The woman began to speak without waiting for anyone to greet her.

"Milady, are you headed east to the altar?" she said, clearly out of breath. Mark assumed that Lyn's dress and features gave her away as the only Sacaean of the small group, although he acknowledged that it was possible that he himself was Sacaean.

"We are indeed," said Lyn. "Is something amiss?"

"You must hurry and rescue the priest," said the woman as she grabbed Lyn's hands. "A band of local ruffians entered not long ago. There was shouting and I heard the sounds of a struggle. I think they intended to steal the sword!" Lyn balled her left hand into a fist and her right dropped to the hilt of her sword as the woman released them.

"I cannot allow this," she said firmly. She stepped forward but Kent spoke up before she could go rushing off.

"You should be prepared before you move, milady," he said. Lyn stopped short and looked at him. She seemed to be debating it in her mind, then she relaxed her stance and nodded. She looked to Mark.

"Mark, do you see the homes to the south?" Mark glanced that way and indeed saw several small homes dotting the landscape. "Should we go question the residents?" Mark looked around towards the altar, where he saw at least one bandit outside.

"Sain, go gather what information you can from the residents of the houses. Kent, go ride as far around the altar as you can and bring back whatever information you can on the bandits. Lyn, start making your way towards the altar. You see those old fallen stones there? Take cover near them. If any of the ruffians try to advance on you it may give some advantage." Mark pointed in succession at each of the indicated areas and swept his eyes around several more times. He didn't see anyone in plain view, but that meant very little. The altar itself was still, by his estimation, almost a half a mile away.

"What about you?" said Lyn, which brought Mark back to himself.

"I'm with you," he said. She nodded.

"You heard him," said Lyn. The knights saluted and charged off in their respective directions. Mark followed Lyn closely as they made their way to the fallen stones. One of the thugs, Mark noticed, started to approach them from outside the walls of the shrine. Mark wasn't sure where he got the confidence to face down three foes—four, he corrected himself by noting that he was a foe of the bandit as well—but he had it nonetheless. It didn't serve him especially well. Kent went charging past the bandit and swung his sword at the man on the way by. It caught him across the left shoulder which sent him stumbling backwards. He didn't have time to react because Kent was already rushing past him towards the outer walls of the shrine.

Lyn used the delay to get to the ruins and readied her weapon as the bandit recovered and advanced. He attempted to swing his axe at her but he couldn't get any power behind it between his injury and her position behind a cracked stone pillar. His axe bit into the pillar itself and stuck fast. It was his last mistake as Lyn retaliated.

Sain came galloping back to their position. His horse came a stop just short of Mark and it whinnied in Mark's face. He leaned back slightly at the force of the wind. Sain looked like he couldn't be more excited to share the news he had learned.

"There's a cracked and brittle section of the wall of the shrine!" said Sain. "We should be able to break it and get through without having to fight through the main of these rogues!" Mark looked towards the wall of the shrine, but if Sain was correct he couldn't tell. They were simply too far away from the wall to see any weaknesses.

"Let's advance," he said, "but we should meet up with Kent to decide what to do." Sain saluted him and rode off in the direction Kent had gone before Mark could protest. Mark turned to Lyn and shook his head. "Let's see if we can find the cracked section of wall at least."

"I hope he won't always be like this," she said. Mark nodded and the two of them advanced to the outer wall of the shrine. As they did they saw Kent and Sain galloping back towards them. The four met up about thirty feet from the shrine walls, where Mark did indeed see a section of wall that looked damaged.

"There is some hilly terrain to the south that shouldn't give you trouble, but is too uneven for our horses," said Kent. "I was going to recommend we dismount, but Sain has told me there is a section of wall we might be able to break through."

"Yes," said Mark as he pointed towards the wall, "I think that's it there. I see a crack running most of the way up and if you look closely you can see bits starting to fall off that section. See if your horses can do anything to it." He looked to Lyn. "Be ready to rush through if they can break a hole in the wall. It may be too small for their mounts so you'll be the first line against any thugs inside.

"Two more of the ruffians accounted for!" said Sain cheerfully as he arrived. "We have them on the run now!"

"Let's hope so," said Mark. Kent led his horse to the crack in the wall. The horse turned around and, at Kent's guidance, kicked the stone wall with its back legs. Mark heard the sound of metal striking stone as the horse's shoes made contact. A large section of the cracked wall broke away, leaving a hole large enough to see through but little else. Kent kicked his horse and it cantered away from the wall. Sain's horse was right behind it to take its turn. Sain spurred it into action and it kicked a spot to the left of the hole. The weakened wall exploded inward toward the shrine, leaving a space big enough for a man to fit through.

Lyn didn't wait. She rushed through the hole and engaged a thug who was waiting on the other side of the wall. Her sword clashed with the man's axe and Lyn was forced back a step by the man's superior strength. Mark ran in behind her to take stock of the situation inside the shrine.

To his left he saw a throne where a man who looked better groomed than the other thugs was pacing angrily with a sword in a scabbard in his hand. An old man was on the ground nearby. He looked hurt, but alive. To his right Mark saw another thug coming through the main door of the shrine. It appeared to him that only the three men were still alive among the thugs' initial number because no one else followed the man at the entrance.

Lyn clashed with the thug in front of her again and managed to get her sword past his guard. It struck him in the left arm which made him reel back in pain but didn't slow him for long. It was, however, long enough for Lyn to strike again and hit him in the upper thigh. He stumbled and fell to one knee, which left him open for Kent, now dismounted, to finish him off.

"Kent, Sain, the leader," said Mark. "Lyn, the other one coming from that way." He pointed to the man who was charging at them.

"On your orders," said Kent.

"If you're sure," said Lyn.

"I am." She nodded and turned away from the throne. Kent and Sain turned and rushed towards the leader on foot, lances at the ready. Mark heard the leader yell from behind him as the knights reached the throne.

"Who do you think you are? You think you can stop me?" Mark didn't turn to look because the other bandit reached Lyn's position. Lyn sidestepped his attack nimbly and lashed out to hit him in response. It bit into the cloth of the man's shirt, cut through it, and opened a cut along his midsection. The thug wasn't deterred and swung his axe sideways at Lyn's neck. She rolled out of the way but her leg caught and she fell flat. She began to scramble to regain her footing and raised her sword in defense. The thug didn't attack her.

He turned to Mark.

Mark felt his blood run cold as the thug advanced on him. He kept his eye on the man's weapon as he tried to think of a way to get out of danger. There were no support pillars to hide behind or easy ways to escape. He took a step back that the thug matched, then a step to one side. He tried to see if Lyn would be able to help him, but the thug was between him and her.

The thug struck with his axe. Mark let his instincts overtake him and he stepped backwards to try to avoid it. His foot caught on something and he felt himself falling. The axe flew past him and he felt it graze his outstretched arm which was followed by a lace of pain that was compounded as his head struck the carpeted stone. In a daze he looked up and saw the thug looming over him as he prepared for the end.

The end never came. The thug groaned and toppled to one side and Mark vaguely saw a hand offered to him. He took it and felt himself being dragged up to a sitting position. Lyn knelt next to him and offered him a vulnerary. She touched it to his mouth and he took a slow drink. His head started to clear and the pain in his arm began to recede. He looked at it and saw a cut that appeared long but shallow. He looked at Lyn. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes looked wide.

"Are you hurt? Mark, are you alright?" He nodded and she put his arm around her shoulder and lifted him to his feet.

"Thank you. You saved me," he managed.

"It's my fault," she said. "I should have been faster. You were hurt because of me. Because I wasn't..." Mark shook his head, partially to clear away the fog but mostly to disagree.

"It's not your fault. You saved me," he insisted. Mark heard the sound of booted footsteps and the two of them turned to see Kent approaching from the direction of the throne. Mark looked past them and saw the final thug motionless on the ground.

"Are either of you hurt?" asked Kent.

"Nothing that won't heal," said Mark as Lyn let him stand on his own. He wobbled slightly but regained his footing without falling over.

"The priest would like to speak to you, Lady Lyndis," said Kent. "Sain is with him now. I'll clear out the shrine." Lyn nodded.

"Mark, are you alright to come with me?"

"Of course," said Mark. She started towards where the priest was waiting but slowed enough for Mark to stay even with her.

"You are of the Lorca tribe, yes?" asked the priest as they approached. He was an old man with a thick mustache and a kindly face. His robes were simple and looked well worn. Mark expected that the man had spent most of his life as the priest of this shrine.

"My name is Lyn, I'm the chieftain's daughter," she said. "Are you hurt? Do you need our help?"

"Thanks to your intervention I'm unhurt," he said. "You have my deepest gratitude."

"What of the sword?" asked Lyn. "Did these men make off with it?"

"I have it here," said Sain. He was standing over the fallen thug leader holding the sword, still in its scabbard. "The man, Glass, as he called himself, was most irate that he couldn't draw it." Sain handed the sword back to the priest.

"The enchantment I put on it prevents it from being drawn." He murmured a few words and the scabbard burned with red symbols for a moment. He turned to Lyn and held the sword out to her in both hands. "You may lay hands upon the Mani Katti if you wish, as thanks for saving me. Touch its pattern and pray for safe travels."

"Thank you so much!" said Lyn. Mark had never heard of this particular practice and didn't know how important it was a part of Sacaean tradition, but he still smiled at how excited she was.

Lyn took the sword from the priest and began to draw it from the scabbard. As she did, the blade gave a sudden pulse of white light. Lyn was so surprised she nearly dropped the sword, but held onto it. The blade pulsed a second time and then began glowing steadily.

"What is this?" she asked the priest. "Does this usually happen?"

"It is the power of the spirits," said the priest gravely. "They have looked into your soul and they have called out to you."

"I don't understand," she said. The priest looked at her very seriously.

"You have been chosen," he said. "You are the rightful wielder of the Mani Katti." Lyn shoved the sword back into the scabbard and tried to give it back to the priest.

"I can't. I couldn't. There's no way." Her tone became increasingly emphatic as she spoke. The priest smiled a little.

"It is the sword's wish. If you need proof, draw it fully." He pushed the sword gently back to her. She took it nervously and tried to draw it. It came out immediately and started glowing in her priest's smiled widened a little. "I never thought I would meet the sword's owner in my lifetime. My family has overseen this shrine for generations. To think it would be me that saw it...take your sword, Lyn of the Lorca tribe."

"My...sword?" She was staring transfixed at the glowing blade. Mark understood why, The blade's light was enticing, as if beckoning him to look at it. He glanced over and saw that Sain was staring at it as well. The priest placed his hand on top of one of Lyn's.

"It is time for you to go, Lyn. You will face a great many trials in the coming days, I can feel it. Take this sword in your hand and face them head-on." Lyn looked at the priest, then at Mark. He smiled at her.

"Yes sir!" she said to the priest. She sheathed the sword and put it in the bag on her shoulder. The light winked out and the small group came back to themselves. Lyn nodded to the priest and said "Thank you." The three of them walked out the front of the shrine to where Kent was waiting. Mark looked back and saw the priest smile and nod once.

Once they were outside they met with Kent and retrieved the knights' horses. There was some hilly terrain outside of the shrine that was easy enough to traverse on foot but gave the horses some trouble and made the trip several extra minutes before they found themselves back on the main road they had come from. Apparently tired of the silence, Sain started talking.

"So that is the Mani Katti, the blade with no equal," he said. Lyn was holding it in her hands inspecting it as they walked. Twice she had nearly stepped into small potholes on the road in her distraction.

"This is...all so unbelievable," she said. "So much has happened in just the last day. And now the most famous sword in Sacae is in my hand..."

"It isn't so unusual," said Kent. "There are tales across the land of special or unique blades that call out to their proper owners. And that blade...clearly you were meant to draw it." Lyn shook her head emphatically.

"No! I'm nothing special," she said. "I'm just a girl."

"I don't know Lyn," said Mark, "I think he's right. The thug couldn't even draw the sword, let alone use it, and now you wield it like you've used it all your life." She shook her head again.

"Maybe...maybe you're right. This is difficult."

"Think of it this way," said Sain, "you feel more comfortable with certain weapons, right? Perhaps this sword simply feels more comfortable with you."

"I supposed I can understand that," said Lyn. She looked at Mark. "This is...my sword. A sword only I can wield. This is going to take some getting used to." That ended the conversation and the four of them began traveling to the southwest towards the border between Sacae and Bern. They had looked at a map and decided that the best route would take them through northern Bern and into Lycia near Caelin canton.

They passed Bulgar once more before they continued. Lyn decided they should stock up on vulneraries and food, which delayed them an hour. After that they departed Bulgar once more and traveled until night began to fall a few hours later. They set up camp, tied up the horses, ate their dinner, and bedded down for the night. Mark, fully recovered from his injuries, volunteered to take first watch. It was a cold night, so he sat by the fire and bundled himself up in his heavy robes.

The night was quiet and he had to fight to avoid falling asleep where he sat. They didn't expect trouble so far from the mountains, but he needed to stay alert anyway. If there were truly assassins after them, they could strike at any moment.

Perhaps two hours into his watch, Mark heard a rustling noise from behind him. He turned quickly and saw Lyn emerge from her tent. By the light of the fire he could just barely see her face as she approached and noticed that she was smiling.

"Can I sit next to you?" she asked. He nodded and she sat down.

"There's still some time until your watch," he said. "I would have come to wake you."

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "Today has been too overwhelming." She leaned forward to warm up her hands. Mark noticed that she was also in a heavier tunic than usual. He considered offering her his outer robe before he went back to his tent, but thought better of it.

"Understandable," he said. "Two battles, the sword, the knights...I'm surprised you're taking it all so well." She looked over at him then sighed and looked back at the fire.

"I'm not sure I am," she said. "There's been so much to deal with today. All of that, and I nearly let you down, Mark. I should have been there for you." Mark stood up and looked down at her as she looked up at him.

"No you didn't," he said. "You did all you could, and you saved my life. It's not your fault I got attacked."

"But I'm supposed to be your protector. It's what we agreed to. If I can't protect you, how can I hope to..." her voice trailed off.

"Wait here," Mark said gently. He walked back to his tent and fished around in the dark until he found what he was looking for. He put it under his arm and joined Lyn by the fire again. He said next to her and placed on his lap a small wooden board. "I bought this in Bulgar earlier. It's a strategy game I remember I used to play. We can play it together now."

"I...if you're sure," she said, a little confused.

"I am. Lyn, you need something else to focus on. What happened to me wasn't your fault." He started placing the pieces on the board but put his free hand on her arm. "I'm alright." She nodded slightly and watched him as he set the game up.

"You'll have to teach me how to play," she said. Her voice was even again. He nodded and spent the next few minutes going over the rules. Once she understood how the game worked they started playing. Mark noticed that she picked up on the game quickly and didn't make many mistakes common to newer players. She didn't talk during the game, so Mark didn't try to make conversation.

It took an hour and they had to build up the fire twice so they could see, but eventually Mark's superior knowledge and experience won out and he ended up taking her last piece. He started to put everything away when Lyn looked at him with a forlorn expression on her face. He stopped and put the game aside.

"What's wrong?" She looked down.

"Even here I couldn't protect my forces. I'm supposed to be your peerless warrior, and I can't fight one man." Mark moved a little closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course I won this game. I'm supposed to be the master strategist, right? And like I've already said, it wasn't your fault."

"He overpowered me to get to you. He would have killed you."

"He didn't, because you saved me." He put a small emphasis on the word 'you' and hoped she understood. "Even if you've trained, you're still young and you can't expect to be perfect."

"But I have to be perfect," she said. "I have to be stronger. Have to protect you." He dropped his hand and put both hands together in front of the fire as he realized what he had failed to notice before.

"Lyn...what happened to the Lorca wasn't your fault. It's not your responsibility to protect everyone." He started to regret it after saying it. He knew he was being too familiar with her to say something so personal, but he couldn't help it. She looked up at him, her expression flat.

"It was, don't you see that? If I'd been stronger I could have saved them. I could have made them listen to me. I could have protected them. Protected my..." her voice broke and she looked away. If she was crying Mark couldn't see it. He touched her shoulder again and she leaned into it slightly. He leaned a little closer so he could lower his voice and still be heard.

"You're only one person, Lyn. There was nothing you could have done." She didn't answer, so he sat with her for a few minutes until she was ready to speak. She took some time, took a deep breath, and looked up at him.

"I know," she said. "I know. There are nights it's more difficult, but I know you're right." Mark stood up. He was having trouble staying awake, and he could tell that she needed space.

"I'll be here when it gets difficult," he said. "All you have to do is tell me." He expected she wouldn't under most circumstances, but she'd been a good friend to him so far and he owed it to her.

"...Thank you, Mark," she said. "I'll take the watch now. You can go to sleep."

"If you need me to stay, I will," he said. Even though he was already up and ready to leave he knew he'd sit back down if that's what she wanted.

"No, it's alright. Mark...you're a good friend, I want you to know that."

"Same to you," he said. She faced the fire and nodded.

"Good night."

"Good night, Lyn." And with that final word, he returned to his tent.

It's been long enough that I don't remember if it gets covered in game or not, but I thought it appropriate that Lyn has some survivor's guilt over what happened to the Lorca. I also forgot how attached she gets to Mark even by the early chapters of the game, which makes it even more tragic that Mark gets shunted to the side in the late game.