Author Note: I welcome you to my imagination. This story is based on the Legend of Dragoon and follows its plot directly (more or less). I tried to tell the same story, but with much more depth of character and emotion. You will find things in this story that did not happen in the game, and you will get an inner look into the psyche of many of the main characters, as the story will be told from various perspectives (of course Dart's being the default POV).

Having played this game repeatedly for years, I felt a need to respect the amazing creators of the game and uphold their decisions on the paths taken by the characters. I only wanted to show a different side to them, and give you an opportunity to get to know them better. Since I started this journey, I have found myself much more attached to each of the characters, knowing them much better than I could have just playing the game, even a hundred times over. This is a true passion of mine, and I am happy to share it with all of you.


"Good night, my angel."

"Good night, momma!"

As the little girl bid farewell to her mother for the evening, a smile lit up her face. Her mother smiled in return and bent down to kiss her on the forehead before blowing out her bedside candle and leaving the room.

The child looked outside and gazed at the bright moon shining in her window. She thought it was strange that it never seemed to leave that spot, like the stars did. Always it shone bright on her bed during the night. She had grown accustomed to it and even began to think of it as her friend.

"Good night, moon," she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and, feeling safe in the embrace of the soft rays of light, drifted to sleep.

All was silent in the little village except the chirping of crickets. Everyone was asleep and dreaming away. Suddenly a light shot through the darkness. A single red flame lit up the roofs of houses and landed on a pile of straw. It caught fire just as several more flaming arrows pierced the sleeping silence of the innocent village. Numerous arrows were streaming through the night sky, and within minutes several houses were in flames. Residents began to wake, and as they grew conscious of the fires, screams started to be heard throughout the village. More and more people woke and rushed out of their houses for fear of the flames trying to engulf them. However, that's where the soldiers were waiting. Panic spread through the villagers like the fires that burned them.

In a remote corner of the village, a young woman woke suddenly, startled by the loud sounds coming from outside. She rose and when she looked out her window, horror spread within her as she gazed upon the scene. She heard someone shout her name, and when she looked down she saw a man fighting off five soldiers at once.

"You'll never take her!" he shouted. She knew that voice. It was the town's sole swordsman, probably the only one capable of defending against such an attack. She also knew that her small town stood no chance of defending itself with only one swordsman. One of her childhood friends flashed across her memory, but she quickly dismissed the idea. He's not coming back, she told herself.

"Argh!" The man had just been cut in the leg. The young woman knew she had to at least try to help him. She quickly opened her window, grabbed a short bow and several arrows from her bedside, and took aim. It was difficult to tell who was who, but she knew that if she didn't act quickly her friend would be killed. She took a deep breath and let her arrow fly.

A split second later she heard someone scream in pain, and she saw an enemy soldier fall to the ground. She quickly knocked another arrow and took aim, but just then a board creaked behind her. She spun around to find two soldiers with drawn short swords staring at her with sickly smiles on their faces. Frantically, she fired her arrow, but it only glanced off the shoulder armor of one of the soldiers. Her pulse quickening, she fumbled for another arrow, but the soldiers rushed forward. One of them raised his sword, and the pommel came fast toward her head. She raised her hands in vain to defend herself and involuntarily let out a scream. A split second later her scalp exploded with pain, and everything went black.

The two soldiers each grabbed one of the girl's arms and dragged her to the stairs. Another soldier was waiting at the base, and when he saw them, he snapped, "You idiots! Pick her up! Not a scratch on her, remember? Not a bruise, not a splinter!" The soldiers rolled their eyes and one of them picked her up. As they carried her down the stairs, two soldiers from outside rushed in the front door, breathing heavily.

"Man! That guy was strong!" one of them huffed. The other, upon seeing the young woman, came forward to look at her.

"She's beautiful," he muttered. Looking up at the one carrying her, he said, "Why are we taking her again?"

The other soldier shrugged. "We don't know, either. She must be important though. Is the commander here yet?"

"He should be any minute," the soldier replied. "We should probably get her out there so he can see her."

The rest of the soldiers agreed, and they carried her out to an outlying area where the moon was bright and visible. They laid her down on a pile of straw just as they heard the sound of horses' hooves. They grew steadily louder until a man completely concealed behind a grand suit of armor rode up on a magnificent horse. As he approached, his cape billowed out behind him, and he came to a halt. He quickly dismounted, and his gaze drifted toward the burning village. It held his gaze for several moments until he turned and looked at a soldier expectantly.

"This way, sir," he said as he pointed in the direction of the young woman. The commander approached her.

"So this is her..." he said. Behind his voice was a hint of sadness, but any trace of emotion on his face was hidden behind his helmet. Without taking his gaze off her, he held out his hand, waiting. A soldier came up and placed a small round object in his hand. It glowed a pale blue, the same color as the bright moon overhead. The commander knelt down beside the young woman and gently moved her head until she was facing the dark sky. He held the orb over her forehead, and the moonlight shone through it. The soldiers surrounding him gasped as a stream of condensed light passed between it and her skin. It looked like a stream of pure moonlight.

Seemingly satisfied, the commander rose to his feet and began making his way back to his horse. "Take her into custody," he said, his voice having regained a stern, emotionless tone. "But not a single man touches her." Here he stopped and looked back at the men. They nodded nervously in affirmation before going to ready her for riding. As the commander picked up pace again, a tall man whose face was obscured by a hood approached from the shadows. The commander looked at him and asked, "Is this really necessary?" Pain was hidden behind his words.

Emotionless, the man replied, "It is his majesty Emperor Doel's command to take that girl into custody."

The commander grabbed his arm and forcefully turned the man to face him. "Then who is she?" he demanded angrily. "Why is she so important? I'm the commander of this army; I deserve to know."

Looking straight at the commander, the man replied, "That is not your concern." He jerked his arm out of the commander's grasp and walked away.

The commander scoffed in disgust and mounted his horse, looking back once more at the flames, now far beyond hope of control. With the turn of his wrist, he signaled all the soldiers to ride out. Leaving the town to burn until morning, the soldiers each mounted and rode away to the west, one of them bearing the helpless form of a young woman.