-Author's Note: *SPOILERS for TotA, obviously* I read something on a fanfiction (I don't remember which, unfortunately) where the author commented on the fact that the Order of Lorelei didn't use Luke as the new Fon Master after Original Ion died, despite the fact he would have been an incredibly powerful Seventh Fonist. For some reason, that idea stuck with me.

For the curious, the translated version of the timeline I used is at Tales of Translations. I'll probably be following the anime a bit more than the game, since the game is so long, and I don't remember the whole thing.

*Tales of the Abyss belongs to respective owners, etc. Please rate and review!*

ND 2015 - Three Years Before

Luke was trying incredibly hard not to scratch his head. The crescent-moon headdress that sat on his head was heavier than it looked, and the tassels itched like crazy. He reached up to scratch his ear, but one glance from Grand Maestro Mohs made him put his hand back down quietly. The man was scary, and Luke had no desire to get a talking to again.

"Fon Master...?" Maestro Mohs asked irritatedly, and Luke realized he had let his attention wander.

"Huh?"

Maestro Tritheim shook his head. "Let the poor boy have some peace. It's only been a few weeks since he was brought to Daath."

Mohs frowned. "I still believe that to be a regrettable lapse in judgement... In any case, he needs to deal with what previous Fon Master Ion left behind after his sudden death."

"It wasn't sudden. You knew he was dying-" Arietta, one of the two Fon Master Guardians standing behind Luke, spoke up accusatorially, but Tritheim shushed her.

"Hush, child. And you, Mohs. You know better than to speak ill of the dead."

Suddenly, Luke felt stabbing agony behind his eyes, and he uttered an inarticulate cry of pain, falling to the floor. Through his darkening sight, he saw Tritheim stand and rush to kneel next to him. Mohs didn't move from his seat.

"Fon Master! What's wrong?"

"My- my head-" Luke gasped, grasping his head with his hands. "I- I can't-"

"Other half of my soul... Heed my voice."

Luke lost consciousness.

When Luke awoke, he stared at the white ceiling, trying to remember where he was. Then he remembered. He was in the cathedral at Daath, and this was his room now.

He stood and walked to the window overlooking the city. When he tried to open it, he realized it was painted shut- no, it was nailed shut, sealed with a fonic arte, then painted over. The paint wasn't new either, so it wasn't because of him.

He wondered why the previous Fon Master would have wanted his window kept shut in such a way. Was it to keep others out, or to keep him in?

Luke turned away from the window and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His long red hair was a mess, tangled in a rats nest around the headdress, and the tassels were in little better shape. His muted crimson formal robes were wrinkled as well, so he must have been thrashing around in his sleep. Clearly, no one had bothered or dared to even remove the Fon Master's headdress though.

Rather than the Master of a great Order, he just looked like the lost fourteen-year old he was.

Luke shook his head, and tried to clear the last of the fog from his mind. The sun didn't look like the weak early morning sun he had seen every morning since he came here, awakened as he was by Mohs, so why was he back in his room? Then Luke remembered: he had been at the Maestro Council when he had suddenly collapsed.

Crossing back to the window, he realized he could also see one of the twin monuments that pilgrims came to see. Standing by the monument, he could see someone who looked like General Van Grants, the Commandant of the Oracle Knights, with another person in the shadow of the monument where Luke couldn't get a good look at them. A tall blond man came up next to the two, and Van took the man's hand in his, greeting him like an old friend. The blond man nodded to the person in the shadows, but otherwise ignored them.

Luke wasn't quite sure how the whole Oracle Knights worked yet- so far he had been able to learn that the Commandant's six subordinates were quite powerful and were held in awe by ordinary people, but he had been unable to find their names. Mohs had carefully changed the subject any time anything other than Luke's most basic duties had come up.

Luke guessed he could understand that. Mohs probably didn't want him to be overwhelmed.

The door opened. "How are you feeling, Fon Master?"

Luke turned. There was Mohs, and with him was Arietta and a plain woman in a simple dress with a head cloth over her head. It was the woman who had spoken, and Luke immediately felt better at the sound of her voice.

"Mother!" Luke ran forward to embrace her, but Maestro Mohs stepped between the two.

"Pamela is no longer your mother, Fon Master. Remember that. She is merely here to serve."

Luke felt like he had been slapped.

Pamela Tatlin looked sad, but she nodded in agreement with Mohs. She walked around Mohs and began gently untangling Luke's hair from the headdress. Mohs turned and, gesturing for Arietta to follow, left the room.

Pamela spoke softly. "We're so proud of you, dear. Who would have thought our son would be Fon Master? Anise sends her love, too. She's been so busy now she's been promoted."

"It was the least I could do, mother."