Note: This is my first Fan Fiction for Fire Emblem, so I'm sorry that it's not that great ^^; Also, I have never played Fuuin no Tsurugi, so some of the made up elements in this story may not be a hundred percent accurate.

-Dark Flame-

(C) Fire Emblem

Original ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Fan Fiction by Becki

Chapter One: The Omen

"Rath!" The voice was commanding, but not harsh in the least. The youth stared up at dark teal eyes, glimmering in the sunshine. Silently standing up, he brushed the itchy tall grass off of his orange clothing. Laya held a horse of an off-white color by the reins. She shook her head, dark cyan hair plaited into a long braid on her back. "Rath, what are you doing here?"

The boy was silent as he usually was, deep brown eyes staring distantly away like empty pools of water, dark hair in a greenish hue dimly flaring in the wind. Laya sighed and stared over the hills and sea of lush grass. She was clothed in blues and yellow, common among the attire of the Sacae plains folk. Rath wore dark brown and burnt orange, triangular designs embroidering the edge of his neck. She patted the saddle on the horse with her palm.

"Let's go, everybody's waiting." Laya clapped her hands together and Rath came to her obediently. Hoisting him up on the horse's back, she herself climbed on, making sure the boy was secure. With a command, the horse bolted across the plains, tall grass swishing against its slender legs.

Rath narrowed his eyes and turned his head to protect his eyes from the hurling winds. Laya secured her grip on him so he wouldn't fall at such a speed. The circle of tents ahead were like blue clouds among the grass, scattered across the field neatly and delicately. The tents were known as gers to the people of those lands, common among many tribes. Horses of many colors grazed freely along the camp's edge, wandering closely by with an eye for predators.

When the riders teetered in towards the camp, they saw the circle of tribe members seated around the large pit, where smoke drifted indolently in the air. The number of people in the Kutolah tribe were great, the ring of leaders skilled and talented in many fields. Laya dismounted, and helped Rath down from the horse. The quiver on her back jolted as she moved skillfully, like a sleek fox she was graceful and observant. Both sat cross legged and inconspicuous in the circle of people.

Rath could see his father immediately near the ahead beyond, the Chieftain Dayan clothed in dark green and light sand colored garments. The most well known name he held was the Silver Wolf. He was calm and collected as many expected him to be, but he seemed so much older, so weary. He sat near the tribe diviner, the soothsayer of the clan. The diviner's skin was darker than most of those who were there, although tanned skin was not unusual among the nomads of Sacae. In his hand was a stave, a long wooden pole with an image of a hawk burned on the edge.

Rath picked at the grass in a bored fashion, barely knowing what was going on. His father started to speak formally to the people, but it was a drone in his ears. His attention was captured however when the frail diviner stood up, stave held high in his bony hands.

"People of the Kutolah, I foretell of strange events!" His voice was soft and was vaguely similar to the sound of waves whisking across the plains at a lightning fast speed. He threw a dark powder into the pile of ash and smoke, and fire instantly flared up from the soot. Rath looked on, straightening his back.

The diviner than sat back and threw stones across the ground where a turtle's shell lay. Studying the shadows cast by the shell and stones, he chanted faintly, so soft nobody could hear what he said. More stones lay scattered across the sandy earth. His eyes were closed, but he moved his head as if he could see things.

The boy watched in mild fascination. After all, this hadn't been the first time he had seen the soothsayer foretell of the events to come. Laya jerked uncomfortably, and narrowed her eyes. Rath always knew that she didn't think so highly of the diviner. The woman brushed her braid to her back to hide the flinch in this simple gesture. The seer continued.

"There is a dark flame, burning and destroying! A disaster to come! Yesterday the stars revealed to me the calamity in the future, something that would cause the lands to erupt in darkness and fire! Today only confirms the star's message!" He said dramatically, but was exceedingly serious. The chieftain watched with no expression on his facial features. Many of the other tribe members depicted faces of horror as they listened with a tense anxiety. Rath felt Laya tense as well, but her face was one of a grim nature.

The chieftain stood up and turned away. The diviner threw his staff to the side. "If you wish to speak, take the staff!" In an organized conduct, the first nomad took the stave.

"Our ways are unchanged. It is our tradition to let the eldest son of the Chieftain prevent disaster." Another member took the staff.

"Agreed. One man must take the responsibility to overcome such a task!" Laya stood up angrily and Rath felt insecure. The eldest son? That was he. But barely even four, he felt small among the adults crowding the meeting area. He was determined beyond all costs, but wasn't sure whether he was ready. Laya fought her way and snatched the staff away from this nomad's grasp.

"Are we, the Kutolah, largest of all tribes in Hanon's lands, still so old fashioned? We cannot let Rath leave to prevent something when he barely even knows how large the lands are!" She snapped. "By Mother Earth, he's not a 'man'! Surely you don't mean to send the chieftain's only son to his death!?"

"Be silent, woman!" The diviner ordered. Laya stared back in disbelief. Rath could see that she was struggling to not scowl. She handed the stave back to seer, taking her place next to Rath silently. Her dark teal eyes never left the diviner as she moved. Her fists were clenched tightly.

The soothsayer paused, blank eyes staring into the sky. "Young Rath was born to stop the fire from scorching the lands. By Father sky and Mother Earth, it is his duty to fight against it."

"But--" Laya began, but the chieftain stopped her abruptly.

"Laya." He said, dark gray eyes boring into her own. She stopped, and Rath tried to catch his father's glance. It was unsuccessful.

Laya bowed her head and let out a shaky breath. The chieftain looked around the assembly before turning away again.

"If it is the will of the people and the Gods, so be it."

"Rath...." He heard her voice again, but it wasn't in the commanding tone she had earlier. Instead, it was desperate and apologetic. Rath didn't look up at her this time either. He stared blankly at the wall of the ger, where a rug hung heavily from it. He had always studied the delicate patterns of the tapestry, broad colored treads weaving and braiding into the never-ending rows, creating one large design. Laya sat down on the furs nearby, and stared at the tapestry as well. Finally after some time, the boy spoke.

"They're sending me out?" He said in a matter-of-fact voice. Out of the corner of his eye, she could see her slowly nod. "Am I going alone?" Laya didn't answer, but replied with a question herself.

"Do you understand why they expect you to leave?" She asked, both hands placed on the straw mat on the ground. He shook his head as a no. She tried to put it in words easily understood by a younger person. "They.. they want you to stop a problem."

"What problem?" He inquired in confusion. She leaned back and quoted the diviner.

"A dark flame."

"......" Rath took his silence back and said nothing, still not understanding completely. He stared back at the tapestry on the wall, and Laya shared his silence. Finally she said something utterly irrelevant to the diviner's augury.

"Your mother made that rug. She was a skilled seamstress and had a way with colors. She'd spend hours weaving and toiling away at her loom. She made that tapestry especially for you, before you were born. She had hoped to see you play on it or sleep on it at least once." She adopted a solemn voice, as her brow furrowed in lost memories. "After she died of illness, the chieftain never did recover." Rath suddenly spoke, surprising her.

"So, am I going alone or not?" He asked again. She sighed and lifted her gaze to the ceiling.

"The diviner said that his was your destiny alone, no one should hinder or aid it."

"....." He was silent again and turned away, the orange warmth of the fire painting the side of his face. His gaze strayed back to the tapestry on the wall, dark eyes as bright as the starless evening sky. Laya touched his shoulder in a gentle manner. To the young boy, she was like the mother he never knew. Although he never really knew her age, Laya was still young. Yet despite adolescent years, her strong maturity was something all of the Kutolah still admired. She was well mannered (most of the time), intelligent, and skilled with the art of archery. Laya was not only Rath's caretaker and teacher, but a friend. Yet one great flaw she possessed was a careless tongue. She spoke broadly and stubbornly, which was considered an ill trait for a young woman as she.

Rath, in contrast rarely spoke. When he did, they were usually one or two sentence answers, but there would be times where he would speak freely, depending on the occasion. He never played with the other Kutolah children, but always kept a strong relationship to the horses.

Laya turned sharply and stood up. She took her favorite bow and unlaced it from where it hung. It was a beautifully crafted bow, sleek wooden edges playing with the light. Leather bands and bright paint decorated the surface. She took her quiver and turned to the boy.

"...do you wish to practice now?" He turned his head and looked at her.

".......when am I leaving?"

"On the morrow."