Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia or anything Namco related. I wish I did though.
Note: I did not make this Koeji did. I posted it because I felt awful for not offering any stories. Also this place needed more Selesfics.
The boat rocks back and forth in perpetual motion. Outside my window, salty foam lashes against the glass. It looks like a giant claw, constantly pounding against the window, whispering, "Let me in, let me in." I pull the bucket a little closer with every wave we pass over.
I am Seles Wilder, half-sister of Zelos, the Chosen One. I am here to live out what my mother has left for me.
Chapter One: The Abbey
"Miss Wilder?" I open my sleepy eyes, but all I see is a hazy figure outlined in golden sunlight. I feel so sick…nauseous. I can almost feel my skin turning green. I reach for the bucket again, already filled to the brim with my own vomit.
"Miss Wilder?" the voice says again. I hold up one finger and vomit once more. I've gotten used to the feeling; the liquid rushing up my throat, my tongue getting hints of everything eaten in the past two days. My sickly condition makes it a way of life. It's a sickly ritual, but one I have known my whole life.
"Miss Wilder, we've reached land." I nod and get up. My legs feel like wet noodles; I fall into the sailor's arms. He wraps my arm around his shoulder and steadies me.
The bright sunlight is an unwelcome sight to my eyes. I raise my arm to block it as a second sailor sets my handbag beside me.
"Welcome to the Southeastern Abbey!" A young priestess approaches us. She brushes a long strand of brown hair from her eyes and adjusts her glasses. Her hat and robe are blue and gold, adorned with the symbol of the Church of Martel. "You must be Miss Wilder."
"Yes," I mumble. The SE Abbey, as they called it on the ship, is a quaint little church. A small circular stained-glass window hangs above the door, with a battered wooden cross on the red shingles. It is falling apart; many of the shingles are curling up, and there is a small pyramid of yellow bricks that have fallen out of the building.
"Please bring your things," the young priestess says as she turns toward the abbey. I pick up my handbag and straighten my hat as I follow the girl. "Right this way."
The inside of SE Abbey is worse than the outside. Lots of tangled ropes and blankets hang from the ceiling. The pews are covered in a fine coating of dust and sand. How many people have been here?
The priestess leads me up a dusty winding staircase until we reach a solitary room at the very top of the abbey. There is one window overlooking the sea. A small table with two dusty wooden chairs sits in the corner, and a bunk bed is placed against the wall.
"Enjoy your stay," the girl says, already halfway down the stairs. I place my handbag and hat on the table and turn to the window. I can see the ship on the horizon as the wind rustles my scarlet hair.
While looking at this perfect scene, only two things go through my mind: that this is what my mother has left me, and that this is not an abbey; it's a prison.