The Ties That Bind


Author's Note:

Hello, all. I'm posting this Yggdra Union story in the Riviera section for several reasons, not the least of which is due to a lack of a section for Yggdra Union itself.

Before this story begins, I would like to clarify certain issues. There is an OC in this story, and yes, he will be involved in a romantic relationship (eventually, anyway) with one of the characters of the Yggdra Union canon.

People who know me should know that I'm not the biggest fan of OC x Canonical Character pairings, mainly for the reason that the OC usually ends up being some ridiculous, unbelievable twink.

That said, Elena is my favourite character out of playable cast (and probably my favourite from the overall cast, but I haven't actually done a comparison yet), and, well, I'm a sap, basically. I wanted her to have a romance, and seeing as how the most popular Elena pairing involves a canonically dead person… yeah. (Not to mention I'm not much into same gender pairings, regardless.) People who know my writing style also know I'm a stickler for canon. I may not recall certain details while actually writing the story (and of course, the nature of games like YU makes it rather difficult to do a quick check-up to ensure I've got everything down pat), but if I at a later date, I recall that detail, I'll either retcon it or go back to edit (and usually leaving an author's note so regular readers will know what I did).

Therefore, I hope that the OC x Elena pairing I'm about to write is a believable enterprise. I understand the YU fandom is rather small on this site, so… I hope my story serves as a good, entertaining read.

Well, that was a rather long author's note, so thanks for reading thus far. Without much further ado, I present…

The Ties That Bind

Chapter 1: Old Wounds


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

(Last note, I'm using the ending 'Trading Power for Wisdom' as the basis for this story, since Good Guys Always Win in videogames, and I have my doubts about Yggdra being a big enough idiot to attack an Archangel for the sake of a sword that has caused so much grief and suffering.)


Not a single cloud was to be seen in the brilliantly blue sky.

And frankly, that was just the way Elena liked it. Sure, as an assassin, she worked best under the cover of night, but she always felt cheery whenever the sun was bathing the land in its golden splendour.

As she wandered the fields, Elena constantly shifted her gaze from the great stretches of emerald grasslands to the shining orb that was the sun. She never looked directly at it of course – any bowfighter could ill afford even the least bit of damage to one's eyes, but she would close her eyes as she walked, smiling as she felt the warmth of the sun radiate onto her face.

And why should she not smile? The land was at peace now, after so much battle and meaningless bloodshed. Queen Yggdra, now the undisputed monarch of the greatest amount of land ever held by a single person since the founding days of Fantasinia, was ruling the land with both wisdom and compassion. The soldiers that had fought the long and bloody war were now tasked with overseeing the lands and driving off the occasional bandit raid (and Sir Milanor was proving a great boon in this regard, since he and his band were well versed in the tactics bandits used in mountainous terrain.) Yes, there was no reason not to smile.

Shifting her point of view back down to a more horizontal level, her smile widened as she spotted her destination – the borders of the Manthre Forests. A day off to visit this quiet and relatively deserted spot had sounded a good idea then, and it seemed equally good now.

Finding a sturdy tree at the forest edge, she settled down, her back facing the inner reaches of the forest as she stared out at the oceans of grass before her. She took special care not to sit on her customized crossbow clipped to her belt – one could never be too careful, after all, and finally she closed her eyes again, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a shiny red apple, and without preamble, she bit into the crunchy fruit, giggling a bit as she felt the sweet juices run down her chin.

Wiping those juices off, she continued polishing off her snack, feeling free to let her mind wander off to various topics. A life spent in training for assassination had left her with relatively little social skills, and it was a 'chicken or egg' question as to whether or not it had resulted in a natural shyness when interacting with people she was not intimately familiar with. The one person she had felt any measure of comfort in talking to (and more often than not it had been met with a stern admonition to focus on their current task at hand) was dead – slain by an arrow fired from Elena's own crossbow.

The sudden wave of memory and emotion that washed up – yet again – caused Elena to close her eyes, trying to let the memories fade way back into obscurity.

This was supposed to be a pleasant excursion, after all. A chance for her to relax, unwind, and to forget about the stresses and tensions of rebuilding a shattered land.

A chance for her to forget the nightmares.

A sudden crashing sound in the undergrowth snapped her from her train of thought, causing her to whirl around, loading and bringing her crossbow to a firing position in one smooth motion. Cautiously, she took several steps backwards.

A dark shape was seen thrashing about in the forests, but Elena wasn't about to kill it until she could ascertain that it was indeed a threat. An assassin was not made an assassin merely by being able kill, but by knowing how and when to do so. Her eyes narrowed – she could almost swore that it looked like…

A wounded knight stumbled out of the forest, his armour cracked, several plates all but shattered. Despite this, the imperial crest of Bronquia could be seen on the chestplate of the knight.

Elena grit her teeth. The knight was obviously in bad shape, but rushing to his aid would only put her in a vulnerable position. "Friend or foe?" She demanded.

The knight raised his head, revealing a jagged cut across his forehead and wild, bloodshot eyes. He staggered a half-step forward, causing Elena to back up instinctively.

The violet-haired girl frowned. The knight was a complete mess, true, but there was something about him that seemed familiar…

The man's eyes focused on her and suddenly they blazed into extreme hatred. "You!" He screamed hoarsely. Apparently he had no trouble identifying her. "I'll…" He fell to one knee, panting heavily. "You… I'll…" The sudden outburst seemed to have knocked all the fight out of him. He slumped forward, landing heavily on the grassy earth.

After several long seconds, during which Elena ascertained that the knight wasn't going to leap up at her with an intent to assault, she risked several hesitant steps forward to place her hand on the soldier's neck.

His pulse was weak but regular, which gave her hope that he wasn't going to kick it just yet. It did, however, raise the obvious problem of how she was supposed to bring this unconscious and rather heavily wounded man back to civilization, and the healers.

With a frown on her face, Elena turned away from the unconscious form. The nearest town would be about fifteen minutes away if she ran, and back would take about twice as long, since she'd likely be bringing others along with her. So… forty-five minutes of leaving this person languishing alone in the field… it hardly seemed a desirable proposition, but what choice did she have? It wasn't as if she had the strength to carry the knight all the way to town, and dragging him the entire way would do wonders for his physical state, she was sure.

Breathing out a sigh, Elena turned, setting off at a steady jog for the nearby village.


"So… will he be alright?" Elena inquired cautiously from her position in the doorway. The healer merely gave a curt nod before returning to her work.

It had been two days since she'd found the unconscious soldier, and he'd ended up being brought to the Castle, mainly due to the wounds being of a rather severe variety – Elena had mentally decided that the best care he'd receive would be by a member of the Court. Sure, the cart ride she'd hitched a ride along with him had been rather bumpy, but Elena knew enough to keep the wounded man from suffering very much… relatively speaking, anyway.

"Ah, Elena." Elena turned, and instinctively bowed as she saw Queen Yggdra rounding the corner. "How fares the soldier you found?"

"Well, the healer says he'll be alright." Elena ventured. "Although… he shows no sign of awakening." And he looks maddeningly familiar for some reason… Elena left that last part unspoken as she returned to gazing at the silent form.

"I wonder what a Bronquian soldier's doing all the way out here…" Yggdra murmured in a low voice. "The remnants of the army have been assigned to overseeing their own lands."

Elena nodded sympathetically, stepping aside to let Yggdra enter the room ahead of her.

It had been just over two weeks since the entire Royal Army had returned from their hellish campaign against Bronquia – a campaign that had ended with them at the very gates of Heaven. The celebrations had had ample time to die down, and now they were faced with the extremely daunting task of rebuilding the shattered lands. As Queen, Yggdra had borne her responsibilities splendidly, at least in Elena's inexpert opinion.

Now, as they both stood over the still form, Elena was once again struggling with feelings on inadequacy – feelings she'd been fighting for what seemed to be her entire life. Assassins weren't much use in times of peace, aside from the occasional patrol in an effort to root out brigands and bandits – and there were already others far more suited to such tasks.

She shook her head, not wanting Queen Yggdra to notice she had been caught up in her own thoughts. The Queen was currently conferring softly with the healer, who had been in the act of redressing the knight's wounds.

It was thus that Elena was the first to notice when the young knight stirred.

"H- hey! He's waking up!"

"Unh…" He shook his head, emitting a low moan. Propping himself up on one elbow, his bleary gaze quickly scanned the room. "Where?" He mumbled thickly.

"You're in the Royal Castle of Paltina. I'm Queen Yggdra." She bent over slightly, enough that she could look him in the eye. "What your name? Can you tell me what happened to you?"

The soldier's eyes narrowed, and instinctively he shifted away. Yggdra frowned. "Look, we don't mean you any harm. We nursed you back to health. I just want to know-"

Elena's eyes widened and she took a half step back, one hand rising to cover her mouth. She knew. She remembered who he was…

"Y- you…" She stammered, earning the attention of everyone in the room. "You're…!"


The roiling green slopes of the Verlaine Hills were a majestic sight indeed.

Or, more accurately, had been a majestic sight. Now, the entire countryside was pockmarked with gaping craters, stark patches and swathes of dead land – a side effect of the devastating power of the ankhs two sides had once used in a petty war against the other.

As sole remaining lord of the entire Verlaine Hills, Roswell would have been swamped in a seemingly endless amount of paperwork and generally mundane and awfully boring stuff. Luckily, back in happier, less hectic days, he'd already delegated sufficient authority to his subordinates so that now only the most pressing and urgent of matters even found its way to his hands.

Of course, that was pretty much necessary practice for any noble who would be a magician. Their natural thirst for knowledge of all things arcane and mystical consumed a large portion of their lives, and having a large amount of free time on one's hand was tantamount. This was of course different from the soldierly mages, who studied spells mastered a long time ago for the sake of causing mayhem and carnage on the field of battle. Not that Roswell didn't appreciate the need for such men – some of his most trusted servitors were just that kind of mage, after all – but he was simply happiest when he was researching or studying new insights on the matters of magic.

Now, though…

He sat, poring over an immensely thick tome bound in thick maroon leather. All around him, books of varying sizes and colours were stacked up in seemingly haphazard piles – some bore evidence of having been carelessly tossed aside when Roswell had finished – however temporarily – reading through the contents.

Directly in front of him, suspended in a glass globe, were four shards of metal, each no bigger than the size of his thumb. As he worked silently, they glowed, showering the darkened room with phantasmagorical lights. Roswell paid those shards scant attention.

After the destruction of the Twin Ankhs by Kylier's sacrifice and the subsequent conclusion of the Battle of the Arc, Roswell had spent precious time scrounging around the blasted wasteland for any scraps of the ankh that still held magical power. These four had been all he could find, and as far as he could tell, they were the key to his current scheme succeeding…

He gestured absent-mindedly, and the goblet of wine he had set down earlier on the nearby table floated up and into his outstretched arm. Taking a long and thirsty swallow, he waved his fingers again, sending the goblet back to the table it had been resting on.

The door behind him creaked open. "Master Roswell?"

Roswell glanced up behind him. Two of his servants were in doorway. "Yes?" He inquired.

"We've brought the tomes you requested. The servants stepped aside, and Roswell could see several men staggering under the weight of a seemingly countless number of books. "They were all we could find from the White Rose Manor."

Roswell nodded his appreciation. "You've done well. Leave them by the doorway."

After complying, his servants bowed once more and headed out.

Roswell shook his head with slight bemusement, remembering how as children, he and Rosary had constantly refused to share anything with the other. And now, he had essentially the entire library of the White Rose – the source of all of Rosary's own formidable powers – at his fingertips.

"She's going to kill me when she comes back, that much I know." Roswell muttered to himself as he continued his work. There was still much that needed to be done.


Thanks for reading. Please review.