Author's Note: Horray for updating, eh? It's been...over a year since I last updated this I believe, and I'm sure everyone's thought it a dead fic. Hell, I thought it was dead myself. But then I got a review today from Anubuko, who just stumbled across it now, and...I dunno. Something hit me. I'd felt like I failed. So I sat down, thought about the story, and said "Screw. That. Noise." I'm not going to let this story beat me. I have a story to tell, and I WILL tell it, come hell or high water.

Long story short version: I'm back.

Chapter 7-Guy: Blunted Sword

It had been nearly a week since Guy left Badon. He had left that night, not being able to bear seeing the others, seeing so many happy friends and comrades together. He couldn't bear to face Rath and have to admit to the older Sacaen that he was wrong about Matthew the whole time, that he really was just being used. But most of all, he couldn't bear to face Matthew again, the only person he had ever really felt close to. Rath and Grant were sort of his friends, but they were always a little distant, always reserved. Even back in Sacae, Guy had never had any real friends. Other warriors his own age were always just fellow students and rivals, and those older then him were his teachers and respected hunters, they never had time for more than a few words of guidance for a young hopeful swordsman. And as for other people, well, Guy would be the first to admit that he just didn't have much in common with those who did not fight. The sword was his life, it's study was his first thought upon waking and it's mastery was his greatest goal. Guy just didn't have any time to make friends with someone who could not appreciate the path he walked.

Not that he was exactly good at making friends with those who did appreciate it, of course. He had always been shy, retreating into his practice and studies as a way of avoiding people, always afraid that others would think poorly of him. But Matthew had cut through all of that. At first it was with his taunting and his underhanded use of the oathpaper, but it became a friendly rivalry and from there a true friendship. Or so Guy had thought.

But he was wrong. Matthew wasn't his friend. He was just like Rath said, a lying scumbag who knew just enough about Sacaen honor and culture to use Guy to his advantage. But why? Why did he need to get that close, just to snatch it all away as soon as the war was over? It didn't make any sense. But a lot of what these Lycians did made little sense. Guy could never understand them. He was just a simple nomad, not noble like Lyn or wise like Rath. He was just Guy, the man who fit in nowhere, and he was alone in the world once again.

Staring up at the nighttime sky, the young swordsman let sleep overcome him as he sank into a deeper and deeper depression, just as he had every night since leaving Badon.

Awakening to the sound of a carrion bird's call, Guy slowly opened his eyes and wondered what the foul avians were circling.

Much to his surprise…it was him. The sun was already up, and beating down on him from high above, while crows circled, waiting to see if he was going to move or if he was safe to eat.

"Uhhhnnh…" groaning, the Sacaen swordsman tried to get up, but just couldn't. He had no energy. How did I get like this? It's not like I haven't eaten. I had that rabbit last night, with those…berries. Oh no. Those weren't cherries...

Managing to summon up enough energy to pull the small, red berries he had saved out of his pocket, Guy brought one up to his face and, with great effort, squeezed some of the juice from it. Sour smelling. Bitter too. I just thought they weren't quite ripe yesterday! Father Sky, I'm an idiot! Indeed, in his depressed state, Guy had forgotten that unripe cherries are green, and he did not notice the other tell-tale signs of the danger from the poisonous little fruits called Birdberries, or Horseberries in Sacae. Should a bird or a horse, or any other animal eat them, the berries are merely sour and a bit unpleasant. But should a human eat them, the unwitting berry picker will quickly find himself drained of strength and energy, horribly bloated and painfully dizzy. Among the nomads, the accidental eating of a horseberry is considered the mark of a rank amateur, and a trap that Guy had never fallen into himself. Until now.

Staring at the crows above him, Guy knew that he had to move soon…or he'd be eaten alive. His instincts for survival cutting through the fog of his depressed mind, he slowly and painfully managed to flip himself over onto his stomach. But as he did, he the world swam around him, forcing him to close his eyes and just lie still for another long moment.

Seeing their meal start to move below them, the crows suddenly became quite noisy, cawing loudly and flapping around rather angrily. In his nearly delirious state, Guy could almost hear them swearing at him to just stop moving and die like a good little meal. The thought made him chuckle, or as much of a chuckle as he could choke out at the moment anyway. Hanging around Matthew for so long had given Guy a bit of the same black sense of humor that the spy was known for.

That thought, of course, drove all humor out of Guy's mind immediately. Damn it all, I don't understand, Matt! How could be pretend to be my friend for so long, just to do that? You don't like hurting people, you said that before…unless that was a lie too. Was everything you ever said to me a lie?

Another impatient caw overhead brought the nomad's thoughts back to the present once again. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked or drawn in his own thoughts now. Not with his energy sapped and the hungry birds above him. He had to get moving. To stay still was to die, at this point. The crows weren't going to give up so easily. He knew very well that they'd follow him until he either found shelter or collapsed. And if it were the latter…

Breathing deeply and focusing his energy, Guy forced himself up to his hands and knees, fighting the nausea and dizziness that assaulted him as he moved. With great effort, he put one hand forward, then dragged one leg forward, followed by the other hand and the other leg, ignoring the pain and the insistent cries from above him to just give up. In this manner the proud swordsman crawled, each slow 'step' progressed making his head swim and gut wrench.

I have to keep moving. One step at a time. Just focus on that. Keeping his eyes closed, Guy tried everything he could think of to keep his mind off his exhaustion. Focusing on the pain in his hands as he gripped clumps of grass to drag himself forward. Concentrating on the angry cries of the carrion birds to give him a reason to keep moving despite that pain. Mentally repeating training mantras of the Sacae, Marcus's infamous 'knightly honor' speech that every man in the army had to sit through at least twice, and even some of Dart's loud and off key sea chanties. Anything to keep him from thinking about how tired he was. Anything to keep moving. A man is best known by his enemies, right Marcus? Well right now, my enemies are these crows, so I guess that makes me food that won't stay still long enough to be eaten. Thanks be to Father Sky for making them such cowards, or this pathetic crawling wouldn't stop them.

Hand after hand, leg after leg, the careless Sacaen crawled forward. Every inch forward sent shooting pains through his arms, his fingers worn raw from endless grasping at anything he could reach to pull himself forward. He had no knowledge of what was before him, or if there was even any help to be found at all. He only knew that he had to keep moving until the point when his body would simply not allow any more movement at all. And at that point, Guy knew with a cold certainty, he would die. For hours he continued on this way, depleted from the poisonous berries, drained from his lack of rest and nourishment, subsisting solely on his pain, the calls of the crows, and a sheer stubborn determination to live.

It would have been easier to lie down and die, certainly. It's not as if there was much point to his life now. He had no family left, and it had been made very clear that he also had no friends. Mastery of the sword was all he really had, and Guy had already seen what lie down that road in Karel's murderous eyes. One could not exist for the sword alone. So why didn't you just die then? He had no answer for himself. It certainly would have been the easiest thing to do...but he just didn't want to die. It wasn't fear of death. He got over that long ago, as anyone who reaches that level of skill at battle does. It was simply an inexplicable desire to live. Despite everything that had happened to him, he still wanted to live. Maybe it's just pride. Nergal and a Dragon couldn't kill me, why should I let some berries and crows have the honor?

Remembering the fear he felt when facing down Nergal's strongest morphs, the Dark Druid himself, and even the mighty dragon gave Guy a small thrill of excitement, even in his weakened state. That was quite possibly the most intense battle the world had even seen, and even though he had never been more afraid for his life, he had also never felt so alive. Hah, Matt and I were terrors that day. We cut right through everything that got in front of us. I don't think Nergal himself could have stopped us, if Lord Hector had given him the time to think about anything besides Armads coming his way. ...and here I am thinking about Matthew again. Shaking off the depressive thoughts that were looming in, Guy just continued putting one hand in front of the other, inch by inch, foot by foot, advancing. Just keep going. I'll die if I stop. Just keep moving. Not going to be crow food. Just keep going...

A large brown dog sniffed the nighttime air curiously. Something wasn't right. He smelled blood. Man's blood. And crows. Something was very definitely not right.

Bounding off in the direction of the smell, the dog starting barking up quite a racket as he went. Sure, that smelled like a while lot of crowd, but ol' Brute hadn't met a bird yet who'd stand it's ground when he came barreling down on it, no matter how many there were.

He couldn't move anymore. It had been hours since he started this long crawl across the plains, but Guy just couldn't move anymore. His body wouldn't respond. And when the crows came down to take a few experimental pecks, he couldn't even force himself to do more then curse at them with weak shouts and maybe flop once or twice. That backed the crows off once, but they swiftly figured out that he didn't have any worse then that for them, and they came back in, pecking at his arms, tearing at his leathers to get at the flesh underneath. Guy closed his eyes and breathed in as deeply as he could, trying vainly to summon up any last drops of strength from his empty reserves to make just one more wild flail to scare the vile birds off.

But before he could even move, something else set the crows into a riot, making them caw in a panic and take to the air as swiftly as their filthy wings would allow them. Straining to hear what could have just saved his life over the din of crows, Guy heard something that filled him with both hope and dread all at once.

The loud barking of a dog.

Mother Earth, please let that dog belong to a man. Any man. I'll take slavers at this point, just please don't let that dog be wild...

Hah, crows were crows, no matter how many of them there are. They always run. The big dog sent a few more loud barks at the retreating birds for good measure, and then took a closer sniff of the man the crows were pecking at. He was still alive, that was easy enough to figure out. Didn't much look it though.

The obvious thing to do here, of course, was to go bark at his master's door until he came out to do something about it. A half dead man is a problem for another man, not for a dog.

So, being a rather simple creature with a good head for the obvious, that's exactly what ol' Brute went to do.

A wave of relief swept over the half dead Sacaen as the dog poked him with it's nose a few times, and then ran back off barking loud enough to wake the dead. That meant it was definitely a man's dog, and that with any luck, Guy was saved. But with this relief came the loss of the tension that had kept him awake and moving, causing him to swiftly sink into the embrace of unconsciousness.

The peaceful quiet of sleep had felt like heaven to the exhausted swordmaster, but waking up was even better by far. Especially waking up in a bed with his wounds mostly bandaged and a wooden mug filled with water sitting on a roughly cut table next to the bed.

Slowly sitting up, Guy ignored the oppressive pain of hunger in his stomach and carefully took the mug in both shaking hands, slowly sipping the clean water within, nearly choking on the first couple of sips. He knew better then to drink quickly after having gone as long as he had without water. It was a testament to Sacaen toughness and his own strength that he was able to sit up and drink at all, after what he had been through.

"Oh, you're awake."

A soft voice from the door almost caused Guy to drop the mug, "Huh?" Looking over towards the door, he saw a young brunette woman standing there watching him with another cup of water in her hands. "Tha...ack..." Guy's voice cracked as he tried to thank her for whatever part she played in saving him, sending him into a coughing fit that did cause him to drop the mug on himself.

Rushing over, the woman grabbed the fallen cup and set the new one on the bedside table, "Don't try to talk. You need to get some water in you, a bit of food, and more rest. We can worry about who you are and what you were doing out there like that later. I'll go get you some broth and let grandpa know you're awake."

Making sure Guy was steady first, the young woman went back out of the room, leaving Guy to his own thoughts. Or lack thereof, right now. All he cared about is that he was safe, alive and in good hands. Once more, it seems as if he'd been bailed out of his own stupid mistakes by a stranger. And a Lycian stranger, at that. Resolving not to follow that line of thought to it's obvious conclusion, Guy simply took the new water cup in hand and did as he was told, slowly drinking the water until the cup was empty, and then lying back down. Sure enough, he was back asleep before the woman could come back with the promised broth.

"From the looks of ye, I'd say ye gotten into some birdberries that day 'afore I found ye, am I right son?"

Guy winced at the old farmer's accurate assessment of what put him in such a state, "Yes sir."

The old man laughed, "Haw! And I thought you plainsfolk were too smart to get yerselves in a mess like that."

Wincing again, Guy sighed, "So did I. I wasn't thinking straight when I picked those. I'm just glad I survived the mistake. Thank you again for taking me in. For all you knew, I could have been a bandit."

Waving off Guy's thanks, the farmer, Fredrick by name, pushed another small loaf of bread at his guest, "And what if ye had been? Gettin' that cozy with the ol' boneman'll make any man give another thought to his life and how 'es been livin' it. Eat up, boy. Ye've been livin' on naught but broth and water for three days now, ye need somethin' solid in ye."

Nodding, and not about to refuse his host's hospitality, Guy ate everything he was offered with gusto. Once the meal was done, he leaned back in his chair, waiting to make sure he had the strength before standing up and addressing his host, "I know I've already said this a dozen times, but thank you again. Is there anything I can do? I need to repay you for saving me, somehow."

Looking Guy up and down, Fredrick nodded, "I imagined you'd say somethin' like that. I've heard about how all ye plainsfolk are supposed to be honorable sorts. Tell me, can ye work? Ye're kinda small..."

With a chuckle, Guy nodded, "I'm not that big, but I'm strong enough. And yes, I can work. I don't know how to do any farmwork, but I can follow instructions well enough."

"Well that settles it then. Ye can stay here and work for me until ye think ye've paid me back, and until ye figure out what ye're gonna do with yerself next. Ye can stay in the same room ye've been stayin' in. Now go get some sleep, we're gonna be up and workin' afore the sun even rises, ye hear?"

Guy laughed, thinking that old Fredrick here might be in for a surprise when Guy gets up before he does, "That won't be a problem."

So here we go with Guy's first solo chapter. Hope you all didn't mind me swapping to the dog's PoV for a bit, the idea just struck me as too amusing not to do. From here out, the focus will be alternating between the Shadow chapters, and the Sword chapters, so it's kind of two stories in one, they're just connected. How so? Well, stick around. I'm not going to stop until you all get to find out.