[spoiler]Another one of Skye’s memories, along with a short story of her in the “present” as she closes in on Errol. Hopefully, I’ll be able to host that RP tomorrow. I might not be able to check in on Offtopic next week, so I want to get it out there before then. This isn’t the last of the flashbacks... I have one more planned, for those of you who are interested. Criticisms are most appreciated![/spoiler] [i]Skye notched the arrow, drew the string, raised her bow, and took a breath. She was perched on her stand in the trees, eyes on the stag that was her target a little less than twenty yards away. It was at the perfect angle, and it was unaware of her presence. She focused, adjusted, breathed again, and released. The arrow hit almost exactly where she aimed. “Good shot, a bhobain,” she heard Lyle say softly beside her. After tracking and dressing the stag, Skye and her father packed the meat and headed home. The young girl, about sixteen, had a little spring in her step as they walked down the narrow path in the woods. Lyle chuckled at her excitement. It was easy to see that he was Errol’s father, as they shared a likeness in the structure of their faces and the color of their eyes and hair. He was a man weathered by the elements, and his hair and beard grew out of forgetfulness to trim and shave. He had the muscled arms and rough hands of an experienced blacksmith. And yet despite his rather rugged outward appearance, his eyes were filled with wisdom. His laugh was joyful and his touch was gentle, as a father’s laugh and touch should be. “You’ve become a fine archer,” he said proudly. “I begin to wonder if I have anything left to teach you.” Skye grinned. “There will always be more for me to learn from you.” “Ah, but you learn too quickly for me to catch up. I’m getting old.” “Don’t say that! Errol and I still have a lot to learn, and if you were our age you wouldn’t have the experience to be able to teach us what we need to know.” A small smile grew on Lyle’s face, and he wrapped an arm around his adopted daughter’s shoulders. “Aye, I suppose it’s not all bad. It does me good to see you two do so well.” While they walked for a few more minutes in the calm serenity of the forest, a question came to Skye’s mind. He had indeed trained them in many things, including hunting, cooking, caring for the crops of the small farm they had developed, survival in the wilderness, and even a little blacksmithing. But he also instructed them in selfdefense with a decent variety of weapons, both melee and ranged. “Father, why did you teach us how to use weapons? I mean, for more than just hunting. You know, like swords and pistols, and even my bow. And we don’t live in a place where there’s dangerous people… there’s almost no people here.” Lyle paused at her inquiry. He seemed a little surprised and almost hesitant to respond. “The world is dangerous, and has a terrible tendency to take us by surprise. I teach you and your brother how to defend yourselves so that you are less likely to be surprised.” “Surprises? What kind of surprises?” Lyle sighed, almost sadly, and suddenly stopped to kneel in front of the confused girl. He took her shoulders and looked at her in the eye sternly. “I wish I could tell you. But regardless of how prepared you think you are, something unexpected will come. Be wise, my dear. And… no matter how much things change, always aim to do what’s right. Always. Do you understand me?” “Aye, father. I think I understand.” He tried to smile. “Good lass, now let’s get home. It’s getting dark.” When Lyle rose to his feet, he turned to continue down the path. His pace seemed to have quickened, and Skye was left with more questions than answers. Still, they walked silently until they heard a soft [/i]pit-pat-pit-pat [i]behind them. Skye furrowed her brow, as it sounded like footsteps. Both she and Lyle looked over their shoulders curiously to be met by the sight of five men approaching them. It was difficult to make out what they looked like, as they were dressed in dark clothing and the lower halves of their faces were covered by masks. Skye was about to ask Lyle who they were, when he set a firm grip on her arm and stopped dead in his tracks. She followed his gaze ahead of them, and five more men walked out from the forest in front of them. They were close enough to make out their eyes, and upon seeing Skye they appeared to be confused. But they soon ignored her and laid their focus on Lyle. Their glares were hard and angry, and Skye’s heart began race. “Skye, I want you to run,” she heard her father say. He repeated the command a couple more times, yet she didn’t move. These men did not have good intentions, and she didn’t want to leave him alone with them. The men charged and immediately targeted Lyle. In response, Skye called for her father and drew out a hunting knife. She leapt into the action, swiping at the backs of two before a couple more turned their attention to her, pulling out daggers from their belts. She defended herself somewhat easily until she could see Lyle being overwhelmed. He was trying to get to her, but there were too many surrounding him. Panic flew through her as she saw one of the men make a blow to his shoulder with a blade. She attempted to push through her two opponents in her way only to have another pair join them. She struggled to break free from their attacks, finding herself on the retreat. In panic, she let one of the men come to close and she gasped in shock when he grabbed onto her arm and pushed her in attempt to pin her against a nearby tree. She felt the sharp point of a broken branch slice against her face, and a warm liquid trickled down her cheek. She found herself unable to fight back, and prepared for the blade of their attackers. Then Lyle came from behind them and stabbed one of the men with his knife. The other three were directed away from Skye, and Lyle fought them furiously, catching them by surprise. The opportunity for escape was almost certain, when the sound of gunfire echoed through the forest, and everyone froze. One of the attackers had lost his patience and drew out a gun. Skye clapped a hand over her mouth, and Lyle’s eyes widened with pain. “Run, Skye! Run!” He strained to yell. Skye watched helplessly as he slowly fell to the ground, and life slipped away from him. With his final words in her ears she turned to flee. She ran as fast as her legs could take her, and hot tears flooded her vision. When she finally looked over her shoulder, she found that they had stopped chasing her. However, she didn’t stop running.[/i] ~ Skye’s fingers brushed over the scar on her cheek, the one that she had gained trying to defend her father. Even though she didn’t always have a reflection of herself to look at, she knew it was there. Every time she touched her face the scar served as a reminder of what she failed to do. She refused to leave him, hoping to protect him and believing that she was ready for it, yet in the end he was the one saving her and paying the price for it. How ironic it was that it happened after he warned her about the unexpected. She could remember it all like it was yesterday. Errol was waiting for her—no, for them. He was confused to find her alone, but when she told him what happened he was destroyed. He was barely able to use the radio to call for help from the city miles away. They waited for months to hear about who it was that had killed their father. Nothing was stolen from Lyle’s body, and there were no clues as to their identities or why they had attacked two innocent hunters. Not even the blood that was on Skye’s knife was of any help. It was almost as though they had completely vanished. Despite the honest efforts of investigators and detectives, the case was eventually left unsolved. Neither one of the siblings fully recovered, especially Errol. For most of the day he would refuse to speak to Skye, and during the night she could hear him grieving in his room. Eventually, he started spending more time at the laboratory until one evening he didn’t come home. After searching for him, she found he was working tirelessly at a workbench in the mountain. Skye still didn’t bother him, believing that he just needed time and fiddling with technology gave him comfort. A few years passed, and they rarely spoke to each other. In that time, when she wasn’t tending to the crops, Skye focused on making improvements on her bow, forging her armor, and studying invisibility. She couldn’t figure out what Errol was working on, and he wouldn’t tell her. Over time they drifted further and further apart. Skye sighed and fought to hold back tears. If she kept track of time correctly, it was the anniversary of Lyle’s death: the day everything changed. If only she hadn’t panicked, and if only she had tried harder. Maybe she could have saved him and they could have escaped together, and Errol wouldn’t have been angry with her. Maybe he wouldn’t have created the crimson beads he called “Atoms”, and so many people wouldn’t have been hurt. She didn’t know how she would be able to make up for it all. Nothing she could do would bring Lyle back, or the lives that Errol had taken, but maybe she would be able to bring back her brother. After tirelessly searching, she knew he was close to a town on the coast of Offtopic, and it was only a day’s walk away. It was almost time, and even though she wholeheartedly expected to find him, she didn’t know if she was ready.