Disclaimer: I am not at all affiliated with Namdai (Namco Bandai) and therefore have no claim or ownership of the Tales of series.

Intermission

By Katana (Ensatsu Kokuryuu)

When Tear returned from the semi-submerged ruins of Eldrant, she expected a period of peace, solitude, and mourning. She did not expect to see other members of the Order of Lorelei. She did not expect to deal with the world outside of the isolated island of Yulia City. And she certainly did not expect to find someone waiting for her in her private selenia garden.

Rather than waiting, this person lay in her garden. Given the fellow's angle, his back facing her as he lay on his side, she could not determine whether his unresponsiveness was a result of sleep or death. However, as she stood stunned at the doorway of her bedroom, she recognized the crimson hair that pooled among the small silver flowers like fresh blood. Anxiety hurried her heartbeat, as a small hope—one that she had tried so hard to banish from her mind—stirred, mixing with her doubt. Taking a shaking step forward, she made her way toward the still figure, taking short pauses between each movement as her senses warned her not to shatter her fantasies.

Within a few steps, the melodist had approached the intruder enough to recognize his black robes: Maestro Robes from the Order of Lorelei. Her shoulders, tense with anxiety, dropped slightly, along with the rest of her composure. He was not the one who was supposed to return, the one who promised her that he would survive. A sense of dread welled up in her chest, but she ignored it. Disappointment or not, this man had stormed Eldrant, and more importantly, had a connection to the one she sought. Besides, one other fact bothered her.

"Asch," she choked out despite her surprise, "how…how are you here? Luke told us you didn't survive…"

Asch remained silent, not even showing a physical sign of processing her question.

"…Asch?"

He only answered her with more silence.

Once again, Tear tiptoed toward the resting figure—He must have survived if he had managed to make his way to Yulia City of all places. Still, his eerie silence was abnormal, even for someone as antisocial as him. As she drew closer, she noticed some red (apart from his hair) which stained her garden: Blood. Tear's pace hastened. Perhaps he hadn't survived, or perhaps she had found him too late. Given his position, she could not yet tell whether or not his chest rose and fell. Her eyes scanned frantically for a sign of life.

Finally, she noticed a small twitch in his shoulder, causing her to relax slightly. Asch let out an ear-grating sound that could have been either a rasp or a cough—Tear could not quite tell. However, she was not surprised when, as she reached his side and moved him on his back, she saw his chest shudder as he struggled to take in air. Tear searched his dark robes for damage as her mind raced with a variety of questions. She forced herself to ignore them, as tempting as they were, for more pressing matters lay bleeding before her. Slipping a hand on her leg and retrieving a knife, she tore open his scarlet-trimmed tabard and removed the collared shirt (along with the belt cinched atop it). Once clear of their opaque veils, the three stab wounds, along with some smaller lacerations, clashed against his now corpselike skin. Tear then heaved him on his side, checking his back for further injury. One in particular bothered her: a puncture wound in his back seemed to match up to a similar wound in his abdomen: An Oracle Knight must have run him through. Placing him back on his back as gently as possible, despite his dead weight, she placed a hand above his torn torso and gathered seventh fonons and began to sing:

"Ryuo Rei Kuroa Ryuo Zue Rei Va Zue Rei…"

As the songstress sang the hymn, the crimson-haired soldier cracked open his glazed-over eyes. They squinted as they tried to focus on the figure before them, but to no avail, causing them to droop half-shut. Tear's expression hardened.

"Asch? Can you hear me?" She heard a grunt, which she accepted as the closest (receivable) match to a positive answer. Much to her dismay, however, the redhead began to close his eyes, and his body relaxed too much for her comfort. "Stay with me, Asch."

Unfortunately, her request was in vain: Asch had already drifted back into a state of unconsciousness.

***

Asch could not recall much the next time he regained consciousness. He remembered flowers, a silhouetted figure, the broken lyrics of songs, and female voice—some dreams, and some fragments of coherence. His closed eyes squeezed tightly shut as he refused to give up his lingering bout of sleep and as the pain returned to him in searing pulses that emanated from the stab wounds. He had almost forgotten just how terrible it felt to die, but those lovely gems remained in order to remind him of the experience.

As he lay in a semi-conscious state, a sudden shock of cold against his forehead forced him to open his eyes. To him, his eyes seemed to snap open, when in reality, they slid open at a sluggish pace. His vision, initially blurred, came into focus, allowing him to see the arm stretched out, its hand on his forehead, from what he gathered, and a face. Blue eyes, long brown hair, and a high brown collar emblazoned with symbols of the Order. The first thought to come into his mind, 'Van's sister,' seemed somewhat demeaning, so he replaced it with the next reaction, 'Tear.'

"So, you're awake," remarked Tear, her eyes never meeting his as she checked his forehead and then focused on his wounds. "You're running a fever right now, but that's to be expected, given your current condition."

Asch's fever-wracked brain could not piece together a coherent answer, causing him to stare at her with a vacant expression. He motioned to move, but he stopped as Tear tugged at the bandages wrapped around his torso. She shot him a glance, shook her head (the silly boy could not move yet), and returned her attention to the task at hand. As the final layer fell to the ground, she began to inspect the wounds. Asch, raising his head—more like tilting it, as he tried not to move the rest of his body—followed her actions.

While the lacerations were easily spotted by the inflamed areas that dotted his chest, they no longer ached as much as they did before, and better yet, they no longer oozed that warm, sticky crimson. Bits of rust-hued solids had caked onto the surrounding areas, and the once pristine bandages, now strewn at the edge of the bed, were tainted with tints of light red. Tear placed a hand over the most severe injury and began to mutter a healing spell. Asch still felt a consistent throb of pain, but it became more bearable as the melodist infused him with seventh fonons. Once Tear finished casting, she allowed her eyes to stray from the wound and focus on its bearer, who had already taken the chance to force himself into a sitting position. He watched her behind drooping eyelids, but he left the lingering quiet to fester and grow between them.

Tear was the first to break the silence: "Now that you're conscious, would you mind answering a few questions for me?"

Asch responded with an indistinguishable noise, which the melodist accepted as his answer. He could have violently refused, and yet she still would have continued the interrogation.

"How are you alive? Luke said…"

"That I died," Asch interrupted. "Obviously not."

"You know that isn't what I meant," retorted Tear, her stern voice slightly lower than usual.

"…I don't know what happened. I remember what happened in Eldrant, with the knights and…" the former God-General cut himself off and thought for a moment. "And then I woke up in a garden, closed my eyes for a second, then found myself here. I should be asking the questions. What about Van?"

Tear averted her gaze. "…Dead."

"And that idiot?"

"…Luke didn't return."

The silence returned. This time, Tear, seemingly more interested in her hands in her lap than in her unexpected guest, had no desire to take the initiative, and Asch, watching her warily, had obtained the basic information he had requested. His aching body protested at this much activity, so he did not care to continue the conversation. After a minute of suffocating silence, the melodist, balling her hands into fists, continued.

"I have work to do," she announced, straightening her posture as she stood up. "Given your injuries, you should still rest. I'll be back later to change your bandages."

Barely casting a glance at the form occupying her bed, Tear put up a calm face as she exited the room. She suppressed her quivering, convincing herself that the conversation, rather the reminder of her loss, had not affected her. Soldier's training had emphasized the uselessness of sorrow. Therefore, for the sake of professionalism, she knew to put on a strong, unwavering front and to convert feelings into facts. Luke did not return. Instead, his original did through uncertain means that merited investigation. It was her duty as an Oracle Knight as well as the owner of this home to determine exactly how and why the former God-General appeared in her garden.

Instead of retreating down the stairs to the main living area, Tear exited from the door on her floor. She could not be certain exactly how well Asch recalled the setup of her home, or if he was even cognizant (or interested enough) to care that she had just exited to her selenia garden, a dead end. Once the door shut behind her, she glanced at her surroundings before advancing. No disturbances, with the exception of the bloody indentation that marked Asch's previous resting place, were apparent to her initial inspection. Taking a gradual and cautious step forward, she made her way across the field of flowers, looking for any more oddities.

'Was it hyperresonnance?' she wondered.'Why would Asch even remember this place? I might have understood this better if Luke had appeared…but Asch should have no connection if he did in fact choose to come here.'

As the melodist closed her eyes, she noticed an increase in seventh fonons in the area. She had sung a fonic hymn, which should have depleted the area, yet she sensed more of the sound-based fonon than she had the last time she had come home. Only one person had a chance of knowing the answer, but he seemed disinclined to talk for the time being. Instead, Tear chose to return toward the door, careful to make as little sound as possible as she reentered her bedroom. Checking on Asch, she noticed he had already fallen asleep. He had sprawled out on her bed, looking carless—even carefree—for once. His expression, which always seemed to contort, either in rage or in pain, had relaxed. A small smile eased up onto Tear's features as she soundlessly made her way toward the stairs.

Once outside of her home, Tear approached a robed man carrying a bag of groceries. She soon realized just how skittish he was as his attention darted across the area as if he was searching for or avoiding something.

"Excuse me, sir," she began, blinking when he jumped at her voice and dropped his charge. Its contents scattered across the road. Tear motioned to help him, but the man hunched over to the ground and raised a hand to stop her.

"Oh…oh. I'm sorry," managed the man as he began to place the miscellaneous items back in the bag. "You weren't who I though you'd be…"

Tear ignored the comment. "Did you see anything strange recently? A few hours ago, there was an influx of seventh fonons somewhere in Yulia City, and—"

"No, I haven't seen anything odd," he cut her off. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

Tear sighed, trying once again. Each time, she received, "I don't know," "I wasn't there," "I'm busy," or inappropriate passes for answers, leaving her to look for another potential witness. After several unsuccessful tries, the Oracle Knight's shoulders slumped in defeat as she sat down to engage in people watching. Perhaps nothing happened, but as a last try, she chose to listen to any telling conversations.

"Not having luck, are you?" inquired a low female voice from behind her.

Tear whipped around, azure eyes wide, as she caught sight of a patch-bearing, ebony-haired woman dressed in black, Daathic robes. "M-major Cantabile? What are you doing here?"

"Disappointed after I had you transferred to Mohs' personal subordinates, just as you asked?" jeered the Major with a snort. "Not very grateful, are you?"

"Not at all, Major. I simply haven't seen you in a few years…How have you been?"

Cantablie's smirk faded into a frown as she contemplated answering. "It's as I told you back then: My boss sent me to some Podunk town to keep me out of his way. It sounds like things started to change a little while back, and Daath only got around to letting me go last week. It was boring and annoying, to be honest."

Tear listened patiently to her former instructor's explanation without a word, watching the black-clad woman with no comment to fuel the conversation. "…How are things at the Order? We've recently lost the Fon Master, the Grand Maestro, the Commandant, the God Generals, and a variety of Oracle Knights. On top of that, the Score is gone. The Order must be in a state of chaos."

"Yeah, when I came back, was a mess…Everyone's scrambling around and trying to replace all of the vacancies. Which reminds me, it's Commandant Cantabile."

"I…I see," Tear managed, eyes downcast.

"That's one of the reasons why I'm here."

"Commandant?"

"Once I got back to Daath, Tritheim asked me to start looking for new God-Generals. From what I've heard, Dist is the only survivor, and I want that idiot to stay behind bars where he belongs. I also heard you surpassed Legretta, which shows you really did find the resolve you needed to become an Oracle Knight. I know you might not be keen on working under me, but I thought I'd start by asking if you'd consider becoming a God-General."

Tear's lips parted in shock at the request, and her hands fell limply to her sides. "Major…Commandant Cantabile, this is very sudden—"

"Just think about it for a while. It's not like the Order is desperate for soldiers right now, but I'd rather start looking for competent candidates now before there's more trouble. Especially since weird things have already begun to happen."

Tear stiffened at the newly-appointed Commandant's remark. "By that, do you mean the appearance of the replica of Hod?"

Cantabile's golden eye narrowed a fraction as she stole a glance of one of the buildings behind her. "…Well, there's that, but I was referring to other things…like the fiery light that appeared above your house a few hours ago."

"So something strange did happen…" mumbled Tear.

"Yeah, that's the other reason I'm here," replied the Commandant. "The Order detected a dramatic increase in Seventh Fonons in Yulia City. Sometime after that, a witness filed a report, so I was dispatched here…Unfortunately, I can't find that one witness, and apparently even I have better eyesight than the rest of these guys. It's as if Yulia City doesn't want this information to leak…but that doesn't explain what happened to that one witness. I assumed it was you."

"I doubt this is the person who filed a report," Tear began, taking care to choose her words wisely. "…but there is someone else who I suspect was a witness."

"Really? Where can I find this person?"

"He's resting in my house. I tried to interrogate him already, but he was not very responsive."

Cantabile chuckled. "Well, it sounds like you have a few things to learn about questioning!"

"Commandant Cantabile!" Tear objected. "He's badly injured. I don't know if he can ta—"

"Just take me to your home," interrupted the black-haired woman.

Tear nodded and took the lead. It was all she could do.

Thankfully, Tear's house was well within walking distance. Otherwise, she would have had to endure an awkward silence between herself and the woman she had once hated. The two had to weave around busy and perturbed city dwellers, but within a minute, Tear had stopped before the door to her house and gestured for the Commandant to enter first. Cantabile obliged, looking left and right as she took in her surroundings. Tear followed her inside but retreated against a wall, waiting for her newest guest to say something.

After satisfying her curiosity about the house, Cantabile turned to face her former student. "So, where's the witness?"

"He's sleeping upstairs…Commandant Cantabile, would you mind waiting here with me? He's reckless enough that he should sleep while he's still willing."

"Fine, fine!" grumbled Cantabile. "I survived waiting around in that sorry excuse for a village, so I'll wait a little longer."

"Thank you, Commandant."

"Just know that I can't wait for too long. Daath is in the process of trying to find a new Fon Master. I'm supposed to review the candidates with Tritheim."

"I understand," replied Tear. "Is Anise Tatlin one of these candidates?"

Cantabile nodded. "Yeah, there's a Tatlin on the list. You know her?"

Tear nodded. "She and I were closely involved during the recent turn of events."

"Huh," she snorted, her eye no longer on the melodist giving the explanation. After a beat of pause, she refocused her attention. "So who is this witness anyway?"

"I found him here a few hours ago, and given circumstances, I don't think he could have come here naturally."

"What's his name?"

"A—"

"Luke fon Fabre."

Tear and Cantabile both turned toward the stairs to see the redhead staring down at them.

Author's Note: Meh. "Intermission" is a placeholder until a better one comes to mind. I'm not entirely certain whether or not this is worth finishing. In any case, I'm somewhat on the fence about certain aspects of my plans…There may or may not be cameos from other Tales of games, namely Symphonia and maybe a slight Rebirth appearance. Reviews are appreciated, so please let me know what you think, be it praise or criticism. And of course, please refrain from flaming. I would like to know what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, and how I might improve my writing.

Thank you,

Katana.