Summury: YuanXMartal fic. "His heart was closed with a bolted, iron, cold door locked with the permanent seal of darkness, rain, and silence so that pain would not enter...or anything else. And yet...there she was, right outside that door, knocking and willing to use her fiery passion to melt the frozen barrier and free him..." Please R and R. Rated Pg. 13 just incase for language and attempted suicide.

Author's Note: I haven't been doing much creative writing lately so please note that I'm working on my style which consists of long descriptions, parrellism, epicthets, motifs, symbolizism, metaphors, simles etc. (I'll let you know as I continue to write). You'll also find influenes from Great Expectations and the Oddesey since I'm reading them as well. And the source of the quote "You need both rain and sunshine to make a rainbow" is unknown. Oh and go ahead and flame...unless it's for a idiotic reason.

Disclamier: I do not not own Tales of Symphonia or it's characters, settings, and anything else that it consists of.

Chapter 1: Missing Sculpture

Darkness...darkness...the empty oppresive shadows that took his dreams sufferocated his heart heavily as the sea of thunder and rain swallowed what he had; what he loved; what he thought was fair; until it diminished into the vague emptiness that was the ocean of death and nonexistence. Rain...rain...he couldn't tell if he was crying; couldn't tell if he was trembling from the cold or fear; couldn't tell if his body took in the moisture, the atmosphere, the droplets that slip through his ocean-blue hair. Silence...silence...the empty void was his only companion....and a depressing companion he was. It said nothing; did nothing; felt nothing. All "silence" seemed to do was mock the halfelf reminding him what he only had....lonliness. And so his heart was clossed with a bolted, iron, cold door locked with the permanent seal of darkness, rain, and silence so that pain would not enter...or anthing else.

And yet...there she was, right outside that door, knocking and willing to use her fiery passion to melt the frozen barrier and free him. His ray of hope, his savior of life pulled him out of that ocean of death. The storm that belllowed across it turned into gently waves that calmed as light shimmered and danced playfully upon the ocean surface. The rain faded, each droplet slowed down so sunlight broke its face through those thick clouds of despair. The sun's warth comforted him and his dream was pleasent for music played, each note clear, elegante and contained such emotion that it broke down that bolted door. Life, warmth, and love welcomed itself into his home and flooded it. He was happy, he was loved and his dream was perfect with her in his heart....Yuan, guile warrior of lightning, smiled as the words "You need both rain and sunshine to make a rainbow," echoed with that graceful, honeyed voice trailing sweet imtimations of love.

And then...blood.

Blood....blood...its deep reddness splattered upon the indiviual blades of grass tainting his very dreams. He writhed and cringed in angish and heart-wrenching pain as his perfect painting was suddenly smeared with the blood of his lover, the blood of his hope, life, and light. It became ugly, and dismal, and misshapened, and deformed as the swift movements of the brush painted the dismise of beauty as was the death of Martel, the savior of healing and cherished love. His eyes widened as darkness, rain, and silence took over him once more. He didn't want to feel this pain again. He didn't want to believe in this pain again. He didn't want to go through this pain again...but now alone. Alone.

And so, Yuan, the guile warrior of lightening became numb. Numb of pain, love, happiness, saddness, anger, and hate. Once more, that door was closed forever with the lock of darkness, rain, and silence with the help of this cruixis crystal...but that was a supposed theory. He still wondered though...wondered why he went through it all in the dreamful realm and replay it only to find, to his crestfallen state, that emotions were a part of him. And they were strong...strong enough for him to...

Yuan, lover of Martel, gave a piercing scream that shattered the still, clear mirror of gentle calmness that reflected throughtout the Renegade base. It lasted for what seemed like 4000 years. 4000 years of pain, torture, love and hope only for his light to fade and be drowned in the endless, dismal shadows. Finally, blue-haired Yuan woke from his dream concious of his high pitch screaming. He jerked his head back in surprise, flabbergasted from the nightmare. Nervously running his trembling hands thorugh his ocean blue hair, he realized that cold sweat rolled down throughtout his body. His usual clothes were drenched under his protective armor and his expression was in a state of consternation.He started taking deep breaths, trying to regain some calm but to no avail.

He was in his office and evidently fell asleep on his desk, Yuan, lord of the renegades, looked about the room. It was humid and heavy...and dark...not exactly an idle place to straighten his crooked thoughts. His keen eyes traveled toward the window...it was still night...perhaps no one heard him. With the white-hot axe of mummers, whispering, and rumors from his fellow renegades, it would certainly drive into this ego like water and steam up some unneeded agitation. Both the atomsphere and that certain thought were both uncomfortalbe but it wasn't as distrubing as his dream and the effect of it.

Tonight...it was stronger. The emotions stired inside him and Yuan, guile warrior of lightning, tried to numb it; tried to freeze it with ice...but the ice kept melting. It melted even more when he absent-mindly summoned for the presence of Botta, his nobel compaion.

Yes...of couse, he thougt. He's dead.

A whistful look shadowed his eyes. Maybe this was why his dreams were stronger. Maybe this was why, dispite hs cruxics crystal, he still felt everything. 4000 years ago and now today...death happened...that he couldn't prevent. Suddenly, he angerly stood up and threw his fist to the wall, fueled by indigination, driving it deeply as bits of brick slowly dropped. He didn't care about the blood that dripped. Or that almost the whole base shook and vibrated from his sudden outburst. All he cared about was the question that buzzed madly in his mind.

Why? he thought harshly. Why is it...that whenever someone gets close to me...they die and...

He stopped and gritted his teeh, opening his eyes slowly and sightly. He didn't want to finish his sentence. Yuan, guile warrior of the swallow, was getting tired of living. Tired of going through this crazy cycle of gain and lost. Tired...of not being with Martel. A crestfallen expression clouded his anger.

How he loved her. How he cherished the very memory that she engraved in his heart. How...everything he saw, heard, and felt brought Yuan, lover of Martel, to that whismical museum where exquisite painting captured the ravishing beauty of Matel, the gorgeous healer. The gentle row of the lake, the graceful way petals fell from the cherry blossom tree, the way a rainbow smiled, the calming tranquility of waterdrops all brought him back to that museum sometimes stolling thorugh its hallways for hours....but it was nothing compared to the very presence of Martel, lover of Yuan. Yuan, guile warrior of lightning...took a deep breath.

Sucide...took over the half-elf's mind. He couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to see her; wanted to lay eyes on her smile, wanted to feel the firey passion that lingered on her lips, wanted to hear her musical laugh. Why did he wait for 4000 years? Why did he think Mitho's idea was great? To bring back Martel...would only bring her pain. Why was he so selfish? Selfish enough to not accept her death...that it was her time to move on. So many years he chased an impossible dream leaving behing nightmares for those who were in the way and suffered...Botta, the noble companion, being one of them. Botta was the only reason that kept him alive. Noble Botta encouraged him, strategized with him, talked to him. Noble Botta...was intelligent, loyal, clever in guile acts...and a friend...but that was another story. Now, there was nothing...to live for. He walked slowly to this swallow that rested against the wall and grabbed it, examining its features.

It shone in the moonlight as it illuminated the blood stains and deaths it carried. It's two blades relflected brilliantly casting a glare that almost shadowed blue-haired Yuan's eyes. Memories upon memories rumbled and roared in its wake like the mighty tide clashing with the stoney ground of land. Perhaps...tonight it will slay one more foe...himself. 4,000 years he lied to himself. 4,000 years he has grown old. 4,000 years...he probably made Martel cry.

It is time to end it, he though fiercly.

Today, he may be alive but his mind was in the past and suddenly he was oblivious. Shadows ate and fed themselves with one logic statement: Mithos was about to resurrect her. And yet, he was unaware, obscured minded and Yuan, lover of Matel, couldn't or didn't want to see the truth. His mind was on the break of destruction. His hand rose to his right ring finger where his engagement ring, his sign of love and memories, held its position. If he had to die he wanted to die touching what remained of Martel. His concious tried to scream the needed logic to him. That he had to continue living; that he had another task to accomplish; that Martel was right there next to him. But Sucide fought with this Logic and won in the battle as it took the spoils of war...Yuan's life. Tonight he would end his fruitless journey and with one swift movement of his swallow he would surely succed. The shadows laughed. It was a a task impossible to fail...

Or so he thought.

His hand had been brought up to his ring finger but instead of feeling the worn out ring of commintment, it came in contact with the warmth of his flesh. Panic arose and made itself known like a whistling tea kettele. Avering his thoughts away from the attempted sucide he stood up and quickly walked though his gallery of memories. Sweat rolled down his face.

How? Where could he have lost it? What if someone found it? His once seemingly straightened thoughts became crooked and twisted as he tried to calm himself down once more.

No luck. How can you find peace when your only memento of your true love is out there, being trampled by uncaring passerbys who knew nothing about which they were stepping on? The very thought made blue-haired Yuan's blood boil like the lava of an active volcano. Quickly, he took his swallow and equipped it to the latch of his belt walked out through the door of his office. He wasn't going to die without Martel by his side. He promised this...and intended to keep it. Even though it was night its darkness would soon fade with the coming sun. With that sunlight he would go search for his ring...no matter how long it would take. Yuan, lover of Martel, would return his missing scultpture of love and return it to his museum.

Mentally, he made a list of places he had been. Blue haired Yuan knew it wasn't in the Triet base in which he strolled though now. They just cleaned up the place yesterday and surely his fellow renegades would inform him. Suddenly, in the gallery of his memories he came across the vivid painting of him trying to assassinate Kratos, the war god...and the wound that came with it.

"Damn it," he cursed. "Kratos's attack would be enough for me to drop my ring and in the rush I must not have noticed."

Hima it was then. Turning right his quick stride took him through an automatic door. It slid open, its industrial scraping sound resounded throughout the Rheiard Hanger. Yuan, guile warrior of lightning, looked about getting a rushing feeling throughout his body. If he didn't compose himself he would lose all his energy that Panic devored. Forcing his rythemic beat of his heart to a slow pace (which sounded like the drums in a heavy metal band) he spotted a green rheiard. Walking quickly toward it he brought himself up to its spot and with nimble fngers, he activated it. Suddenly, Yuan guile warrior of lighting sensed another presense in the room. His eyes sharpening he instantly grabbed his swallow that hanged on this back.

"Lord Yuan!. Where are you going?" cried a fellow renengade.

Blue haried Yuan let his hand fall limply to this side and simply stared at his own kin. He didn't have time for this. A mist of both passion and ice settle itself in his eyes and the renegade both shivered and burned under the intense glare. He is not in a good mood, thought the renegade. He didn't like it when Yuan, guile warrior of lightning, was in these ditches of predictaments. It was as if the indigination of Lord Yuan came upon them like deadly lighting roaming for hours as it traveled from one side of the country to another. He would rumble and roar, cursing from this continent to the next until it eventually susided and he was left to drift away peacefully back into the security of the sky. The gaze lasted as silence welcomed itself. The renegade was being tortured with the knife of fear and anger, sharpened by the stiffiened void.

"I'm off to search for something and no, you may not accompany me," said Lord Yuan with a trenchant force behind his voice. The renegade fell out of the painful trance. "Tell the others that I may be gone for a while, I'm off to Hima."

Before the confused renegade can question, the rheiard hovered over the ground. The hanger opened as the orcestra of mechanical doors and technology played revealing the golden grains of the triedt dessert and the vast midnight sky,. Suddnely Yuan, lover of Martel, was a part of that night, wind rushed past him as he navigated his way toward the red, rocky mountain. His cape ripped in the air as his long hair flew widely about him, untamed. The stars shone out brightly like the eyes of a small child, curious to see what blue-haired Yuan, lord of the renegades, guile warrior of lighting, and lover of Martel was doing, traveling though the endless sea of space where the further you get, the more the book of memories would open. The concealed page of the past would be turned and finally have its oppurtunity to be read by those who cared to give love, more than a passing glance of the first paragraph...

Author's Diary: Yay! My first chapter is done. This is like a short diary entry where I'll write about my thoughts concerning this chapter. Writer's block quite took its toll here several times. Where some parts flowed (the descriptions about pain and lonliness most likey) I was at a lost with Yuan's actual thoughts. Stepping inside of this character, I expereiced headaches, colliding waves of imagination, and a war of debaters who fought, yelled, and screamed until they eventually settled on an idea. Overall, I'm quite satisfied, especially when I haven't been writing much. Please R and R. That's why I'm here. Here's Nogoshi signing off singing to a song. Have a nice day.