Hi, dear readers! Welcome to my first attempt at a fanfic. I hope you like.
Disclaimer: Don't own Tales of Symphonia.
And I've got one foot in the gate of hell
You got two hands pulling me around
You got three years just for givin' up
And I've got nothing to complain about
~Eastern Conference Champions, 'The Box'
He knew, had always known, that this was where he'd end up. That this was how his life would end. He wouldn't die in battle, a hero for his people. He wouldn't die peacefully in his sleep, or even of natural causes at all. No, Yuan Ka-Fai was destined to die silently. He was destined to be slowly picked apart by humans, having parts chopped from his body piece by piece.
But no story should start with an ending. Stories should begin at the beginning, simply because it's less confusing that way. Like many stories, Yuan's begins on a windy, stormy day. It was the kind of day that the village of Troy saw often.
On days like this, Yuan's favorite place to be was the library. The large, high walls were completely covered with hundreds of books on a multitude of subjects. Warm and inviting with a comfortable couch, lit by antique torches, and smelling of pine, Demitri took immaculate care of this library.
He never knew what Demitri's last name was. In fact, none of the children did. They simply knew him as Demitri, or the name the little ones gave him, Papa Mitri. He was older, fifty or so, middle-aged for a human. But he had the energy and passion of a twenty-five year old.
Maybe that was why Yuan, like so many others, was so drawn to him. His vitality, his zeal. Or perhaps it was just because Demitri had been the only father figure he'd ever known.
Whatever the reason, Yuan was sitting in the library, reading up on the Summon Spirit Undine. Halfway through a chapter about Undine's Curse, the alarm bell rang. Normally, it rang at least once a week, but this time was different. This time, it was no drill.
A week ago, Demitri had been waiting for Yuan when he entered the library. "Good afternoon, Yuan," he said in his soft-spoken voice.
"Hello, Demitri." Yuan settled down next to his surrogate father. "Did you need something?"
Demitri smiled at him, a charming but sad smile. "I need a leader."
"Why?"
"…We are in danger. My intelligence inside the Tethe'allan army tells me that Aurion knows where we are, and he's planning to come after us. The next time the bell rings, it won't be a drill."
Yuan took a deep breath. "How much time do we have to evacuate?"
Demitri shook his head. "We aren't going to evacuate. Not until the last moment. We can't have the children panic and ruin our chances of escape."
"What will we-?" Yuan was cut short by Demitri hurriedly interrupting him.
"I'll explain. Everyone knows the evacuation plan; the children will simply follow it. The only difference is that you will be the one to lead them." He held up a calloused hand at Yuan's expression. "I'm not finished. You will take over my role. If anyone asks, I simply had work to do. Take them all the way through the plan, see that they head for their safe houses. When everyone is gone, I want you to burn down the mansion."
"Bu-burn it?" Yuan shook his head. "No, I can't, where will you live? Where will we all come back to?"
"Look at me." Demitri put his hand under Yuan's chin and forced it upwards. "Good men fight for what they believe in. I want to be called a good man at my funeral."
Yuan stared at him for a few seconds. "You…you can't…I…"
Demitri let go of his chin. "Your escape comes first. Burn the mansion only if you can get out safely. I don't think the soldiers will be able to understand anything they find, but better safe than sorry." Demitri stood up. "Yuan, I trust you. I have faith in you. Am I wrong to do so?"
Yuan hesitated, but nodded. "No. I'll do my best."
And now, Yuan sat in the library, listening to the high-pitched bell. He sighed, closed his book, and readied himself. "Let's go!" he yelled down the hallways as kids began to line up. "Let's move!"
Demitri's mansion was big enough to hold at least fifty kids comfortably. Sometimes, there were almost ninety; other times, such as when Yuan first arrived, it only had a dozen or so. Yuan's job, as the leader of the evacuation plan, was to make sure no one was left in the thirty or so bedrooms.
"Everyone in line? Got your clips? Good. Go ahead." Yuan moved on to the next room, checking that no one was left behind before he sent them off down the trapdoor, down to the basement.
Underneath the house, in the dark and damp basement of Demitri's mansion, was a padlocked door hidden by a boiler. Behind the door was a tunnel that led to a small house in the mountains. From that house, the kids were sent to various families across Sylvarant. They would blend in as a family friend or a rarely seen cousin, with falsified papers to hide their real identity.
As Yuan was ushering the younger children, trying to keep them calm, one of the older ones came up to him. "Where's Demitri?" the boy, a stocky 16-year-old, asked.
"He's got a ton of work to do," Yuan said automatically. "Do you have your clip?"
"Yeah, I got it," he grunted.
"Good. Get to the basement."
After the boy had stalked off towards the trapdoor, Yuan was approached by one of the younger girls with tears streaming down her face. "Allie doesn't have our clip!"
Yuan groaned. "Allie! Where's your clip?"
Allie, who had just turned thirteen, snorted at him. "C'mon, we don't need 'em. It's just a drill, right?"
"Find your clip," he said. Allie's eyes went wide.
"Th-this is a drill, right? Right?" Yuan crossed his arms. "Holy shit. Holy shit. I-I need to find my clip."
"Yeah, why don't you do that," he said flatly. "Take your little buddy with you."
As Allie rushed off to get her clip, her little buddy trailing after her, Yuan began directing the rest of the group. Some, like Allie, had left their clips behind; he made sure they all had them.
The clips were one of Demitri's many inventions. They were small, metal disks that clipped onto a belt and had almost unlimited space for storage. They were able to hold a myriad of things, including food and clothes, the false papers every kid had, and Demitri's other invention, a flying machine. Each child, when they turned twelve, was given a clip, along with the responsibility of a 'little buddy': one of the younger children to take care of during the alarm drills.
It took a half hour to get every child into the basement and assembled at the padlocked door. Normally, this was where the drill would end, and Demitri would lead them back to their rooms. But today, Yuan approached the boiler, pulled out his key ring, and opened the door behind it. The assembly of kids gasped and started whispering.
"Well?" he said. "Get going. You know the plan."
Slowly, the kids started filtering through the doorway. The little ones were gripping their big buddies' hands for dear life, while the older ones were giving weary looks at Yuan. He shook his head when any tried to question him and waited it out. Once everyone had been evacuated, he doubled back.
The last thing he wanted to do was burn this house. It was his home, the only stable place he'd ever known. He'd come here when he was only four years old, with no family to speak of and no idea who'd brought him there. In a world where half-elves were hated, it was nice to have a safe haven. And now Yuan had to light it up like a pile of trash.
He did a quick search of the house to make sure everyone had gone through the tunnel, then headed for Demitri's room. He was at the top of the stairs when the door below burst open. He quickly ducked behind the wall and listened intently.
"Half-elves!" a voice yelled. "We know you're here! If you come out now, we may spare your lives!"
Soldiers flooded the entryway and began breaking down doors, searching. Yuan felt his chest constrict. His eyes darted wildly around, trying to find an escape, but there was nowhere to go. The soldiers were storming the house and moments away from coming upstairs. The voices got louder and louder, and Yuan closed his eyes tightly. He thought back to one of the many conversations he'd had with Demitri years ago.
"Where do the half-elves go when they're taken by the Tethe'allans?" he'd asked after reading a story in the newspaper. It was just months after the Tethe'allan Army declared their plans to round up all of the half-elves.
"You're old enough to know now, I guess," Demitri had said. "I'll tell you. They're murdered."
The boy's blood ran cold. "M-murdered?"
"They're transported to a…camp, of sorts. Once there, they're either enslaved or killed on the spot." Demitri glanced at Yuan, whose hands were shaking. "Don't worry. The people of Sylvarant won't let a genocide go on right under their nose. Not even a half-elven one."
"Why?" Yuan croaked. "Why do they hate us so much?"
Demitri slid his arm around the teen's shoulders. "People hate what's different, they fear it. The people who run the war might run it partially out of prejudice and greed, but the biggest cause of this war is fear. And nothing can change fear. All we can do is wait it out."
That had been four years ago.
Now, Yuan shook as the soldiers came closer. His skin started to crawl with fear and anxiety. An arm reached out and gripped his hair with a shout downstairs.
"I found one!" Yuan was dragged downstairs by his hair, banging his tailbone on each step. "He was on the second floor. There are probably more up there."
"You're shit out of luck," Yuan grunted as he was thrown unceremoniously to the floor. "Everyone else escaped, and you'll never find them." A strange feeling of pride welled up. By now, every other child was flying across the sky, on their way to the brave families willing to hide them. And he'd led them to safety.
A figure appeared above him. A haughty, distorted face peered at him with a scornful glare. "Boy, do you know who I am?"
"Drake Aurion," Yuan spat. "Teth'allan commander."
A cruel smile played on the man's lips. "Good boy. Now, we know that this was a safe house for half-elves, and we know that it's not the only one. Tell me, where are the other safe houses?" At Yuan's silence, Drake gripped his forearm and twisted. He gasped in pain as his elbow snapped. "I'll repeat my question, abomination. Answer or you'll face terrible pain. Where are the others?"
Yuan laughed. "You don't understand, do you? We're part of an underground chain. For the safety of the entire operation, we know only what we need to. You can torture me, break me, starve me, within an inch of my life, but I don't know. You'll get no information out of me."
Drake's face contorted in anger. "Tell me!" He kicked Yuan in the face. He felt his nose break and blood dripped down his face. But he couldn't help it: he just laughed, if only to piss off his attacker.
The soldiers had gathered around now, looking at various papers from Demitri's office. Drake turned to one of them. "What did you find?"
"Nothing, sir. They covered their tracks well."
Drake frowned. "I'm sure this…thing knows something. Take him to Compound 49." Yuan's hair was once again seized and pulled so that he was staring into Drake's eyes. "Do you know what happens at Compound 49?"
"Let me guess, a birthday party?" Yuan grunted. His head was slammed into the ground and his vision swirled.
"Compound 49 is the last Compound we built," Drake said quietly. "Day by day, we take pieces of you, bit by bit. On the first day, we take your hand. The second, we take your arm off at the elbow. The third, at the shoulder. On the forth, we move to the other arm. And so on, and so on, until you either tell us what we want or there's just nothing left of you."
"You're sick," Yuan gasped. Drake pulled out his sword. "A twisted, sick man."
"I'm sick?" he whispered. "You're the one spreading your filth across the world. You and your kind are taking over, pushing the humans out of their rightful homes." Drake smashed the hilt of his sword into the side of Yuan's head. "You deserve to die."
Yuan's vision went fuzzy, and then everything went black.