FOREVER DESTINY : Ancient Era Arc 1

Before the Beginning

Episode 1:

"Ordinary Daze"

Story Focus: Hariel and T'myra

By Nekochan

Author's Note

This the start of my first Ancient Season. Ever wondered what happened back when the Ancient was mortal and split the armors? This is around that time, kinda'. Anyway, this will be a completely new atmosphere and a fresh start. Make sure you let me know if something seems wacky.

Arigatou Minasan! (Thanks everyone!)

Nekochan

(-)(-)(-)

8:35 AM Wednesday- Sahenangell, Sahngell January 19th- 981 D.A.

In the outer marketplaces of Sahenangell, a young boy sat on the street, eating his morning meal; a broken off piece of bread, an apple, a carrot, and a small piece of dried meat. No one really bothered the boy, primarily because he looked rather strange. It was the maroon eyes.

He stopped halfway through biting his apple at the sound of many people running close by. Being known for small acts of thievery in the city, he figured it was the Capital Guard looking for him . . . again. So, he ducked into an alley, after gathering up his breakfast, and monitored the Guard from behind a barrel.

His eyes opened wide as he saw a brown-cloaked child, running from the Guard. The child was doing a fair job at dodging shoppers, vendors, carts, and animals, not to mention the Guard. He noticed that this was an opportune time to embarrass the Guard. After the child passed him, he ran out into the street and started some of the animals there. The animals toppled some large boxes and kegs on carts into the street, tripping all of the Guard and causing the crowd to create an open space for the chaotic events.

"Damn you, Hariel!" the captain cursed.

At hearing this, the other child stopped and looked at the boy who'd halted the pursuers.

"Now, now, Kohherth - that kind of language? In front of children?" Hariel motioned to the crowd.

"Why would you even care about that little thief?" Kohherth sneered.

"Hey, any enemy of yours is a friend of mine!" Hariel laughed. He then grabbed the child's wrist, pulling them both into a run down the street. "See ya' later, Kohherth! Better luck next time!"

Hariel didn't stop until they were outside the city. When he did stop, both bent over and gasped for breath. Hariel looked up at the smaller child whom he had saved, who had not spoken a word or shown their face. When the child stood up, Hariel could see wisps of black hair falling across the child's face and sparkling, green eyes.

"So . . ." Hariel sighed, his own white hair falling in tufts about his face, "What'd you steal that made Kohherth want you so bad?"

The child still did not speak, but drew a long bow from under the cloak, only slightly smaller than the child. In the other hand, the child held the strap attached to a quiver of arrows.

Hariel stared at the items, then the child's garments, and finally to the child's concealed face. Hariel took the child to be a little boy, for the simple reason that he could find no reason for a girl to do such a thing. "Well, if you're not gonna' talk to me . . ." Hariel turned away, "I guess I'll be going. I still have breakfast to finish." Then a realization came upon him and he groaned, If it's still there . . . He began to walk away, but stopped at the sound of the child's voice.

"Wait, I'd like t' thank ya' . . ." came the voice. But it wasn't the fact that the child had spoken that had made him stop as much as how the child's voice sounded; light like a bird and soft as its down. It sounded like a Mage to Hariel, if he remembered their speech correctly; he hadn't exactly been in close contact with that many Mages in his life, and those had been on formal occasions with Shedosh.

Hariel turned to face the child once more, just as the mask and hood were removed by the child. Silken black hair to the child's mid-back was revealed, braided atop the head and tied into ponytails below it. The ponytails were all around the child's head and hung straight down.

The child smiled. "If I can," she finished.

"You- You're a girl?" Hariel stammered, walking back towards her.

The girl's eyes slitted and her smile turned to a smirk of displeasure, "Ya' wanna' make somethin' o' it, Cotton?" she taunted.

"Cotton? My name isn't Cotton!" Hariel yelled.

"Well, if ya' mum didn't name ya' t' match ya' 'air color, then what did she name ya'?" the girl mocked, pointing at his head.

"Hariel," he said defiantly, "and who are you, Demon-child?" He had meant it to be insulting, but not as derisive as she took it.

The girl swiftly drew a long whip from under her cloak and cracked it above her head, "My name is T'myra M'munda Orysy-H'htonre." She cracked the whip in front of Hariel's feet, causing him to jump back. Her eyes opened in amusement and she grinned, "But I like Tayma much betta'."

She must mean 'Tamer', but it comes out 'Tayma' because of her accent. She must have got that nickname because of that whip. "Geez! Did you rob the whole Guard?" Hariel gasped, looking at her whip; he wanted to make sure he was able to dodge it if she decided to crack it again.

Tamer's face changed to pleased. "Just about," she laughed, holding out a short sword as well as a dagger, both of which she had drawn from under her cloak. "I've done this b'fore. I 'ave more at 'ome!"

Hariel's mouth dropped open. "Can I see?" Hariel begged, but quickly cupped a hand to his mouth, realizing he was acting childish.

Tamer raised her right hand to her mouth and began to chuckle. "If ya' want t'," she managed to say, "I do owe ya' a favor, after all."

"Oh I do!" Hariel insisted, unable to contain his excitement. "Uh . . . Do you have any larger weapons?"

Tamer's hand moved to her head as she thought. "I dunno'. I think I got a broad sword once . . . an' a club . . . Ooh!" Tamer snapped her fingers, "That's right! I've got a double-edged sword! I'm sure glad I didn't sell that!"

"Wow! A double-edged sword? Really?" Hariel exclaimed. "Let's go!"

"All right 'Ariel, . . . " Tamer paused. "Nah! I think Cotton's cuter!" She giggled as she began to walk off, waving the thought away with a flick of the wrist.

"She gets to call me a plant," Hariel murmured as they set off, "but I can't make fun of her without getting threatened by a whip . . ." A mild blush crept into his cheeks. He wasn't sure whether the nickname was a compliment or an insult; whether she was making fun of him or flirting with him.

(-)

As Hariel and T'myra walked, Hariel became more and more curious about her past. She didn't look like anyone else he had ever seen. Of course, because she's a real Mage, stupid! Royalty, in Mycuaja! And it's not like I've seen that many Mages anyway . . . his conscience scolded him. T'myra's attitude also frightened him, and yet left him in awe of her; she seemed fearless and determined. But determined to do what? he wondered.

"Ya' seem awfully quiet, Cotton. Somethin' on your mind?" T'myra asked lightheartedly.

Hariel blushed; that nickname again. "Yeah, but I don't think-" Hariel started.

"Then it's about me, isn't it?" T'myra guessed. "Don't worry, I've been through this b'fore. Everyone's always so curious about me. . ."

"Why?" Hariel inquired.

"I don't know," T'myra said as she shrugged. "Why don't ya' tell me?"

Hariel thought about that and about whether or not he should actually answer her.

"Hmm, I guess ya' don't know either," T'myra chuckled slightly.

"I think- I think it's because you're so different," Hariel answered hesitantly.

"Aren't ya' the bright one!" T'myra laughed loudly.

"No, I mean-" Hariel tried again. " I think it's because you're not like anyone else around here. Most people have at least seen a Mage or two in their lifetime, but some of us-" Hariel tried to explain, but T'myra cut him off.

"Is that what ya' think I am?" T'myra looked into his eyes; her own eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement.

Hariel looked at the ground, where he was walking. He could feel the blush creeping into his cheeks again. It was like looking straight into the sun; he couldn't stare into her eyes for too long, or he may have gone blind from their intensity.

She resumed her gaze at the path ahead of them. "Well, I'm not. I'll tell ya' that right now," T'myra insisted.

Hariel snapped his head up to look at her. "You're not?" he gasped.

She shook her head, 'no.'

"Then, what are you? I mean- you don't look like a Mystic . . ."

"Ya' don't look quite like an Angel o' a Saint, ya'self; what's ya' point?" T'myra pointed out. She turned to look at Hariel just as his expression changed drastically.

His face was scrunched as if he was in pain and he was holding his head. He fell to his knees and groaned, the pain was so strong.

"Cotton? 'Ariel, what's wrong?" T'myra asked as she knelt on the ground.

"I don't know," Hariel groaned. Images that he didn't recognize were flashing through his head. Then, they stopped. He opened his eyes and was staring into great depths of green. He blinked and realized that a very concerned T'myra was looking down at him.

T'myra sighed in relief, "I tell ya' what. 'Ow about we go inside an' try t' sort some things out? I promise t' show ya' that double-edged sword . . ." She extended her hands as an offer to help him stand up.

Hariel looked behind her and saw a roof just above the crest of the hill they were on. He took her hands gratefully and smiled as he stood up, saying, "Sounds good to me." Even though he hadn't held her hands for that long, he was amazed at how smooth they felt for someone who appeared to be so well-practiced with a whip.

(-)

9:07 AM Wednesday- Sahenangell, Sahngell January 19th- 981 D.A.

Amazingly enough, Tamer's 'home' turned out to be an actual house just outside the city.

"You can afford a place like this all by yourself?" Hariel wondered as he entered.

"That's right; I paid fo' this place t' get built," T'myra replied and nodded simultaneously as she shut the door behind him. "Let's just say - fo' now - that money isn't somethin' I worry about."

Hariel looked at her quizzically as she passed him, moving further into the main room. "Then . . . why do you steal stuff you don't need?" he asked.

T'myra faced him directly, hands on her hips. "No merchant in this 'ole country sells anythin' remo'ly close in quality t' the stuff made fo' the Capital Guard. If I could buy them, I would, but the makaa's are Royal Craftsmen; only Nobles can get the items made by those people!" she explained, obviously frustrated. If I had been able t' carry more gold, then I coulda' jus' told 'em 'oo I was an' bought all their stock . . . But even if I 'ad told 'em, they mighta' said no anyway . . . once they realized what I was . . .

"Uh . . . " Hariel tried to think of something so as to quickly change the subject. "How do you keep the house so clean?" That has got to be the dumbest question I've ever asked her . . . or anyone else, for that matter . . .

"I clean it myself," Tamer responded, apparently more than willing to change the topic as well, "an' I don't make much o' a mess, either." She walked into a back room with Hariel following cautiously behind her. "Now . . . where'd I put that blasted sword . . . club . . . spear . . . Ah! 'Ere it is!" She pulled a large sword into the open. "Pretty good quality, eh Cotton?"

It was in a sheath of red, black, and white and the handle was gold, silver, and red. T'myra handed it to Hariel.

He unsheathed it and ran his fingers over the flat of the blade. "Very," he sighed. "I remember Kohherth getting mad at me 'cuz he thought I'd taken it!"

"Indeed . . . Rumor 'ad it that the blade was made o' a superia' metal. It sounded strong, so I took it, in case it came in 'andy." Tamer shrugged.

"Superior metal, huh? Wow . . ." Hariel observed.

"So . . . we 'ave both come t' the conclusion that we are not what we seem," T'myra said, changing the subject herself this time, as she walked back into her living room.

"You could say that," Hariel agreed, following.

"Now, if I'm goin' t' tell ya' anythin' more about me, ya' 'ave t' promise that you'll come wit' me on m' journey," T'myra insisted.

"Well . . ." Hariel shifted, "I don't know about that-"

"O' I could always kill ya'," T'myra shrugged as she sat in her armchair. She made a conscious effort to remain in proper posture while in front of Hariel, to emphasize her superior position.

"Now wait just a second-" Hariel became very defensive.

"I'm very protective o' 'oo an' what I am," T'myra told Hariel, her eyes alone conveying her sincerity perfectly.

"I can see that, but that doesn't give you the right to go around threatening people after they've helped you out!" Hariel exclaimed, "I mean- I'd never do anything to hurt you!"

T'myra looked at him quizzically. Hariel realized what he had said and turned away from her, blush creeping into his cheeks.

"What d' ya' mean by that?" T'myra asked him.

"I just . . . can't imagine seeing you in pain . . . " Hariel tried to explain, "After seeing you when I . . . out on the road . . . I don't want to see you like that again." Hariel kept his back to her; he wasn't sure he wanted to see her expression. She must think I'm nuts . . . "You seem like you've had to endure a lot of pain already."

T'myra lowered her head and looked into her lap, "I 'ave."

"I'll tell you about my past," Hariel began. "Maybe that'll change your mind. I'm an orphan that an older Mystic found on the streets of Sahenangell. He took me back to Mysecuamaja with him until I was old enough to take care of myself. Then, I came back to Sahenangell to try and figure out my past. You see . . . I don't remember anything before the Mystic found me." Hariel stared out her window to Sahenangell, And here's the part where I get kicked out. "You probably want me to leave now," Hariel sighed as he walked towards her door.

"No, no, wait a second. I agreed t' clear things up with ya', 'Ariel," T'myra pleaded. She got up out of her chair and ran to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, hinting gently for him to turn around.

She called me Hariel . . . what's this all about? He turned around to face her. "But I haven't agreed to go with you," Hariel noted.

"Look at me," Tamer commanded.

Hariel gazed at the young girl. Her skin was a darker shade than even the average non-G'gonstrm-native's was, not to mention far darker than his own was. T'myra's skin was also smoother, thinner, more defined, and muscular. However, at the same time it was more delicate. He thought that, if he were to brush her skin, it might remind him of all of those nice clothes he'd seen Noble people wearing. He really wanted to run his hands over her shoulders - or arms - or neck - and find out, but he shook the thought from his mind, labeling it insane. Then he noticed her ears . . . slightly pointed. He looked in her eyes, and they shimmered for a bit. He looked slightly startled, which made Tamer giggle a little and smile. She had more visible canines . . . fangs.

"I'm even more confused now. You're from- but you have-" Hariel stammered.

"I'll start by saying this, I am part Mage, but not all," As Tamer said this, she raised a palm to be parallel with the floor and level halfway between Hariel's eyes and her own. A blue-green fire the size of her palm began to burn there, having no noticeable effects at all.

"If you're from Mycuaja . . ." he queried, "why would you come here?"

Tamer's eyes narrowed in anger once more, but not at him, as she closed her hand and the fire dispersed. Suddenly, it seemed like all he could see were those two green gems that were Tamer's eyes amidst darkness. "It was m' parent's wish . . . 'Ariel, ya' must tell no one o' what I am about t' tell ya'."

Hariel looked a little hesitant, but nodded mutely.

"M' mum was from Mycuaja, indeed, an' a very powa'ful Mage, at that. But m' father . . . was from G'gonstrm."

Hariel gasped. G'gonstrm . . . the birthplace of the Gizmutan and Demidons who use dark powers . . .

The emeralds flickered and continued, "M' mum 'ad been sent t' slay m' father, but she could not an' they fled t' the country hills o' Mycuaja. She used messenga's - anonymously, o' course - sayin' that both she an m' father 'ad died in their battle. They raised me as a competent warria' an' spell-casta'; it came naturally t' me from the blendin' o' m' 'eritage.

" 'Owever, m' father was still a traita' in G'gonstrm. The Nobles went as far as t' risk their own warria's' lives - by enterin' Mycuaja - just t' kill 'im. M' father an' mum escaped with me, but then our 'unta's knew 'ee 'ad a family. Some'ow, m' mum received a vision. She told me that, if they should die, I was t' escape t' the capital o' Sahngell, Sahenangell. She said that, there, I would meet m' destiny an', in time, 'elp t' stop our pursua's an' their masta's fo' all o' eta'nity . . ."

The forest-colored jewels resumed their place in Tamer's eyes and it was light again for Hariel. Tamer looked at Hariel, meeting his bewildered gaze.

" 'Ariel, I wonder if you might 'elp me?"

Hariel couldn't say a single word; his eyes were still trapped in the emerald casing of Tamer's eyes. His mind wandered as various memories flooded into his head and the pain started to return. He shook them away, for a while, and finally managed to say something. "Then, you're an orphan too."

"Indeed, I am," Tamer lowered her gaze. She wasn't mad anymore, she was . . . saddened.

Hariel straightened his back and clasped her right shoulder in his left hand. "How do we start?" Hariel asked, flashing her a bright smile.

Tamer smiled, but turned away and out of his grasp as she spoke. "We can't get anywhere if we don't know where we're goin'," she stated. Tamer walked a little ways away, grabbed two masks and a cloak, and turned back around. "We need The Map." She tossed him a mask and the cloak.

"The Map?" Hariel wondered aloud as he looked at the articles in his hands.

"There are five Artifacts which can merge t' One. This One Artifact can destroy m' parents' slayers, 'oo are Evil in their own right," Tamer said coldly. "The Artifact are 'idden, fo' they are so powa'ful. We need The Map t' find 'em."

"How do you know all of this?" Hariel asked.

"My Uncle, 'oo 'elped m' parents escape, is a Seer. 'Ee told it t' me as a young girl, warnin' me it wasn't fiction. B'fore we left 'im, 'ee told me I should find the Artifacts when I'm out on m' own. They'd 'elp everyone achieve peace," Tamer explained.

"Do you truly believe in such far-fetched legends?" Hariel laughed.

Despite a legend about Artifacts, the Mycuajan subrace known as Seers were a mystery in and of themselves. They were called prophets, poets, fantasizers, and future-readers. Some were very well known, others were not, but that depended on who believed what the Seers said. They couldn't cast spells, but could predict the future and see the truth behind lies and illusions - some said they were just Angels trying to make a living. However, Seers did have the physical features of Mystics and Mages. They were truly an intriguing race and had been discovered only recently, so not many concrete details were known about the "race".

"Indeed," Tamer spoke sincerely. "The Artifacts are said t' be imbued wit' the powa' o' the Dekutan; somethin' as powa'ful as that is the only thing I can think o' that would be strong enough t' take down G'gonstrm."

Hariel gawked at her, "You plan to take down the entire country of G'gonstrm? With a bunch of myths as your only weapon?"

T'myra nodded, narrowing her eyes fiercely. "I want t' destroy those corrupt Nobles that killed m' parents, indeed."

(-)

3:25 PM Saturday- Outskirts of Sahenangell, Sahngell March 12th- 981 D.A.

"Woh, woh, Sillehstah," a man said trying to calm his horse. "I feel it, too. Something is about to happen. Then . . ." he looked to the sky, "Perhaps then I can get out of here . . . and really do something with my life . . . and make amends."

(-)(-)(-)

Continued in: Nightmares Revisited

1/19/2001
 Yay! I finally got this part of the story done! I'm so happy! (Big grin) I hope you like it. I know I do! (Cute smile) We have a little love triangle beginning, ne? Well, perhaps this season will clear some things for those of you who have read my later episodes of this story! I will forever continue to write! (Happy shouting) Yeah! Maybe I'll even get permission to get this thing published! (Big-eyes realization and happy grin) I'll get back to you guys on that one . . .

1/29/2005
 Wow; almost four years to the day! Anyway, I hope you understood everything I presented and can understand T'myra talking. (Embarrassed grin) If you still don't believe me that this is an RW / YST fanfic I'll give you three names to ponder over for a while: HARIEL, SABERSTRYKE, AND KOKUEN-OH! Is that ringing any bells? If it's not, then you haven't seen either show in a really long time and you should go brush up on your knowledge!

2/8/2005 and 3/31/2005
Once again, thank MorganRay for her wonderful critiques. Yes, I know that there is now a gap in the story until I re-post the second half of the original Episode 1, but I'm sure you'll be happier with it being so much shorter! Give me about a day and I'll have the second half of the original episode posted. No worries! (Smiles) Minor wordsmithing changes, but that's it, plus an explanation for T'myra's house. (Silly grin)

Nekochan