Author's Note: After a long break from the fanfiction scene, I'm back (and in a different fandom!). Please be harsh in comments, because it'll help my writing style.
As far as setting, this story begins about 450 years before the game. Tethe'alla has been in decline, while Sylvarant has prospered. The rest should come clear in the narrative. Enjoy!
Masses of paperwork threatened to engulf Yuan as he entered his office on the top level of Welgaia. Unfair, he thought. Why had Mithos given him all this work after he'd just finished overseeing the Tethe'allan regeneration?
He slumped down into his uncomfortable chair with a sigh and noticed a blue note on one relatively clear spot of his desk. "Yuan," it read, "Kratos took an injury and has been unable to finish his share of Welgaia's maintenance administration. Do it for him. You can hire an assistant if you need to. M.Y."
Well, that was disturbing. Kratos has been playing antagonist in the Chosen's journey, after all. It was only out of duty that Yuan had had to fight his oldest friend, but Kratos was the one who had jumped in front of the mana blast. Yuan rubbed his right hand in memory of the explosion – the Chosen's mana signature was just subtly different enough from Martel's that there had been a severe rejection, and Kratos had dived in front of Yuan to protect him, even though Yuan had taken the precaution of defending himself and Kratos hadn't. Yuan would have to visit Kratos later and apologize. In the meantime, Mithos's suggestion of an assistant was definitely a good idea.
Yuan frowned. Who to choose? It couldn't be any of the ones loyal to the Desian Cardinals – he'd incurred their wrath in helping Umbran regenerate the world, which happened to ruin one of Pronyma's schemes. Not like they didn't know what was going on. Serves them right for underestimating me, anyhow. And if the Cardinals were not to be trusted because of their plotting, the Cruxis angels were definitely out. The ones with full emotional capability were too ambitious, and the ones without a heart were too creepy. That only left the new recruits, half-elves who hadn't formed an allegiance to any of the Cardinals.
Brushing a stack of papers unceremoniously to the floor, Yuan slid over a compact monitor and began searching through the Cruxis computer system's personnel database. Hmm. A Tethe'allan would probably recognize me, but I'm not sure that would be a good thing…Let's see what we have from Sylvarant. There were notoriously few half-elves born in Sylvarant, since Tethe'alla had been designated as the world that would house Heimdall. Still, there were a number of elves living among humans in Sylvarant, much as Yuan's own father had lived among humans in the Ancient World. And there was always the population of half-elves descended from other half-elves, though those children tended to come from whichever world was currently in decline since that was where the Desian ranches were located. There ought to be some from Sylvarant…Ah, here we go. Looks like there are only two of them, though. Water-mage? Ew. That was bound to end in fighting – Yuan couldn't seem to get along at all with anyone who specialized in Undine's magic. Here we go. Fighter, supplemented with Earth-style attacks. Raised in Triet, born of unknown elven father, and joined the Desians when his mother died because he didn't have anywhere else to go.
He quickly entered the request to have Botta Segli, identification number 045F1, to be reassigned immediately to Welgaia, and then started on the stack of paperwork.