Author's Note:

Wow, how long has it been since I've updated this? 34 glorious reviews! Not only that, but e-mails, instant messages . . . you people know how to make a writer feel loved. Just so you know, all of this is for you! I would've abandoned this long ago if it weren't for the overwhelming response I've received. Thank you all so much!

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A bear of a man with a barrel chest and stout, muscular legs lounged in a large, wooden chair. No matter how many times he shifted positions, he just couldn't get comfortable. His current situation was bothering him greatly, and thinking about what would happen if these failures kept happening made him grimace. There had been rumors of bandits planning a rebellion, but that didn't bother Twinblade as much as his pride did. If the Guild caught wind of his repeated failures, what would they think? No, it would set in stone that he was wrong. . . wrong about his idealology, wrong about everything. He didn't want to go begging to them, crawling on his hands and knees like some dog! With an angry grunt he grabbed a mug of ale and downed the whole thing in one rude gulp. Finally calming down, he sat the mug aside and ran a hand through his red hair. It had been dreadlocked long ago, and Twinblade was sure that he would start losing his hair soon, due to nerves. He resolved to shave it himself, one day. One day when he didn't have all of this to worry about! His dark brown eyes looked lazily around the bandit camp, and rested on a mismatched crew walking towards him. It consisted of two bandits, one with teeth so bad that he must have a terrible speech inpediment, and the other old and balding like some half-dead mule. In front of them was his healing woman, Glennis. She was as ugly as both of them combined, but he would never say that to her face . . . she commanded a sort of respect from him. That, and he needed her skills. Then his eyes continued, and fell on the tiny girl clinging to Glennis' ratty dress. Even with a bandage around her eyes, he was shocked at how pretty this little girl was. He wasn't -that- sort of fellow, but it was a rare delight to see anything lovely and innocent enter his territory.

"An Oakvale survivor?" Twinblade rumbled as the group approached. Theresa peered out from behind Glennis, hoping that her ears could catch what her eyes missed. She wasn't as afraid as she would've been if she could've seen Twinblade, and in the end this worked in her favor. Piqued by her curiousity, Twinblade tilted his head in a slight nod, a gesture that meant that she should come forward. Elliot knelt down by Theresa and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Just walk forward. Don't be afraid, there's nothing to stop you." Glennis looked warily at her brother's friend, knowing that the newly blinded usually didn't have such perception as when to stop walking, or when to start. However, Theresa stepped forward, her head held high. It was only when a flash of memory stabbed her brain that she faltered, and crumpled to the ground. The Bandit King frowned.

"Theresa!" Glennis pushed Elliot aside and ran forward, clutching the girl's shoulders.

"I saw him," choked Theresa, "I saw my brother. . . it was right before the attack. I wonder if he survived. . ." Glennis squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip before calmly placing her hand on Theresa's head.

"What're you doing, Glennis?" Cliff inquired as Twinblade shifted himself again to get a better look. The placid look on Theresa's face fascinated him.

'She must be a strong girl,' he thought, 'To be so calm after such a tragedy.'

"I'm sorry, Twinblade," Glennis' sharp voice snapped him out of his musings, "She needs her rest, I'm afraid the excitement has worn her out. She has, after all, had a very tiring week." Tiring? Tiring? Theresa's jaw stiffened. Memories were becoming hard for her to recall, no matter how hard she tried. It was almost like there was a weight on her brain that was slowly seeping out the memories. The dull thud ebbed away as Glennis lifted her hand off of Theresa's head and stroked her cheek instead.

"Come on, love," she smiled wearily, "Let's have you rest up before we bother Twinblade again."

"She'll stay with you, Glennis," muttered the Bandit King, "She looks strong enough to handle menial duties. She needs to earn her keep while she stays here, I don't enjoy keeping strays."

"I know, Twinblade," said Glennis as she stood up and took Theresa's hand. As they turned to walk away, Cliff eyed his sister venemously. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why Theresa was suddenly feeling so tired, and he didn't like it at all.

---------------------------------------------------

"Father, you know as well as I do that he's only doing this for the dowry," a petite woman stood over her father as he leered at the fireplace.

"I know that, daughter, don't you think I know it!" he snapped, "But this is the only way! You know what happens to those who refuse him. Do you really want your older brothers to die for your own selfishness? Besides, many girls would cut off their own hands for this opportunity." The father rested his head in his hands and slowly wept, "I don't want your mother's death to be in vain."

Yes, Kaze's mother had died. She was bitten by a Balverine when she was pregnant. She resisted the change until she had given birth to the babe, which explained Kaze's eerie golden eyes. . . they were Balverine eyes. Mentioning her mother always made Kaze cringe. It wasn't because she felt guilty, no, it was the opposite. She resented her mother for being bitten, for cursing her to be the odd child who felt sick to her stomach everytime there was a full moon. She hated that she didn't feel guilty, but she couldn't change it.

"Well," said the brunette, "At least I'll be out of your way now." A bitter smile curled at her coral lips, "You won't have to worry about me anymore. Who knows, maybe this will be better for me. . ." Kaze's father looked up at his youngest child with a tear-streaked face, not knowing whether to stare at her with disgust, hate, or awe. He reached out a trembling hand to touch her, to see if she was real, but he was interrupted by a cold knock at the door. She looked at her fate staring at her in the face with eerie golden eyes eternally behind a strange mask. Her bitter smile turned into an ironic one as she cast her father one last look. She knew that he would forever regret not being able to hold her one last time. Even if he did hate her, even if he did sell her out, even if. . .

Kaze woke up when she felt the cruel sun fall on her face. She shielded her eyes as she sat up and looked at her beloved curtains. They were torn from the window, pitifully mangled in a heap on the floor. The woman crawled towards them and clutched them to her chest like they were the last mementos left by her family.

And she cried.