Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia...although I wouldn't mind owning Mr. Bryant and Mr. Wilder...mainly for shady money making purposes.

The Company

Chapter 1: Memories in Paradise

Sun gently shined down on the white sandy beaches. Reflections off the ocean and travelers' sunglasses could be seen sparkling for miles. Seagulls could be heard cawing and fighting amongst each other, while children did the same. The luxurious island was at peace.

Light blue eyes looked out on the white shores accompanied by a deep sigh. Normal proud broad shoulders were slumped forward, giving a defeated look to the man with yearning eyes.

"Master Bryant!" a gruff voice exclaimed.

After a small jump, shoulders straightened and eyes adjusted on the desk full of paper work and the annoyed assistant before him.

"Master Bryant," George said with exasperation, "if you could please focus on the STP reports. They need to get out today if we are going to make this partnership with Latitude Company work. They are definitely interested in helping with the rebuilding of the more devastated towns, although the initial project, Luin seems to be doing just fine. Prospering more, actually. Beyond that, the president of L Company would like to meet you in person when the discussion of…"

Regal tried. He really, really tried. Even listening to the reports of the morning was too much of a task lately. The once proud and poised president of Lezarano was now more of a sullen and sulky teenager. While meetings were in session, he was planning battle strategies. When conferences were held, speeches and slideshows were replaced with monsters and magic. While decisions were being made, he was dreaming of half-elves and angels. Although the symptoms had surfaced for quite some time, it was still only George who recognized it.

Regal Bryant was homesick…in a way. More like…adventure-sick. He missed the random fights with monsters, ancient caves and tombs surrounded with mind boggling puzzles. He longed to sleep under the stars and although Regal was a meticulously clean person, deep down, he secretly wanted to feel a light layer of dirt on his clothes every now and then. He wanted to barter with shopkeepers over the new shipment of greaves and cook with wild ingredients found in a dungeon, throwing all caution of salmonella and e.coli to the wind. But most of all, he missed his friends.

Late at night, when he was supposed to be worrying about an entire company, he was reminiscing about what he sentimentally referred to as "the good old days" and imagined what his companions were doing as he was laying awake. He assumed they were all busy. Lloyd had his new quest on destroying exspheres…something the Lezarano company should have been against, had the president not witness the price of those jewels first hand. No doubt Collete was with Lloyd as normal, and with those two Genis and his sister wouldn't be far behind. Presea had been invited to live with the Sages so she was more than likely out there in the wilderness swinging her ungodly axe at some creature. Soon enough Zelos would have abandoned any leftover duties as Chosen and drug Sheena along for the ride. It was an important quest they were on, and they wouldn't have need or incentive to bother him when he had his own company matters to deal with.

These thoughts would then lead to the well-being of the company itself. Although a little wistful during meetings and reports, Regal was far from being less than accomplished at his job. The entire company had suffered, what with the end of the world and the president out fighting against the forces of evil, but it wasn't near any serious financial trouble. The major problem was Regal's reinforced view of the half-elf race. Although he was never outwardly prejudiced against any half-elves, he would be the first to admit that he had never dealt with one personally. His travels with the two magicians had just disproven everything he had ever been told on the Tethe'alla side. Because of this new vigor, many people in positions of power had to be let go of immediately. It would no longer be accepted in his presence. And though there were many that were qualified to step up to leadership roles, the people of the new world were still getting used to the sudden changes and they were drawn to the comfort of tradition. A comfort that the Lezarano Company was forgoing. The price for facing the future was a slump in quality filled positions.

"Master Bryant!" George barked out again.

"Yes, yes of course," Regal said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment at the need to call him back to reality twice in the same meeting. "Set up a meeting with this Mr…uh Mr…with the president of Latitude for some time next week," he stuttered under George's smirk. "I don't want him getting too comfortable with the thought of the partnership…I haven't found his company's skeletons yet."

"Yes, Master Bryant," George replied, noting the blush on the president's face.

Regal stood up, easily towering over his assistant, and worked the stiffness out of his neck and back. "How many applicants are there this morning?" he asked reluctantly. The interviews had begun to feel like copies of themselves. Same "yes" people with their same "yes" answers.

"You'll be glad to hear that there are less than yesterday Master Bryant," George said, looking at a clipboard.

Regal raised his eyebrows in hopeful surprise. Perhaps there would be enough time after the interviews to escape to the mountains on the east side of the island and use his newest pair of greaves.

"Just shy of fifty by the looks of it."

And with that sentence, his dreams were punctured and his eyebrows lowered, like a small balloon slowly losing its air. He let out a long sigh as the hopeful balloon deflated and braced himself for the small talk from hell.

He ran. As fast as he could. His lungs were burning wonderfully and he nearly hit that woman, but he would not look back for anything. His chain made a quiet clinking noise and he frowned as he noted that he was getting sloppy. But he ignored this minor fault and smiled a tiny bit as he faced the sun, feeling the cool sweat drip down his brow.

"Turkey Legs! Get your Turkey Legs here!"

The escaped president slowed at the siren call of the food vendor. His stomach growled at the thought of lunch and his mouth watered. He stepped up to the man and reached in his pocket.

"Oh no Mr. President!" the man protested. "I couldn't take your money."

"Hmmm," Regal said. "Then how about just making sure that you didn't see me here?" he suggested as he placed some gald on the counter. The vendor eyed the money warily, wondering if this was a test on him by his highest ranking boss. But as the young executive walked away, chomping at the juicy turkey leg, he shrugged and swiped what was equal to half a paycheck and put it in his pocket, wondering what President Bryant was doing at the amusement park in the middle of the day.

Although the turkey could have used some red savoy, it was still warm, crispy, and juicy. Regal tore at it like a wolf and continued to walk among the amusements. He finished the meat rather quickly and as he tossed the leg away, he caught his reflection in a vendor's window. With his hair windswept and the juice running down his chin, he looked like a wild man. He grinned darkly at his rough appearance and then frowned a bit. First at the full-length white shirt, reminding him of his position, then at his rough appearance, contradicting his position. He politely asked for a napkin from the vendor and wiped at his face, thinking heavily as he walked away.

The interviews for entry level positions did not need to be overseen by him, but he insisted. Some may say it was a control-freak like symptom, but he was more along the paranoid side of things. Strategically placed questions and an intimidating president usually weeded out any negative seeds. However, although the president usually scrutinized the applicants, today he was mainly scrutinizing the clock. Luckily, the clock was placed right in front of the desk, behind the interviewee's left ear, so it didn't seem like he wasn't paying attention to a single word they said. When that sweet fateful minute hand met the hour to announce midday, he jumped up, clearly startling the woman before him. He shook her hand and thanked her energetically and apologized for having to leave so suddenly. Before George could stop him, Regal had escaped down the elevator and hadn't looked back until now.

He shoved guilty thoughts away and tried to focus on enjoying the sights and sounds around him. It'd been ages since he'd actually been on any of these rides, even though he saw the lights from his bedroom window every night. He stepped in line to ride the ferris wheel and tried to be happy. He climbed into the carriage alone and was immediately struck by a girl and boy on the wheel two cars above him. The girl had long, flowing blond hair and the boy had short brown hair that was almost impossibly windswept. Regal felt his stomach tightened and was almost ready to shout at them to get their attention. But as the two snuggled closer together, he realized that the girl was too tall (or the boy was too short) to be the couple that he had fought beside.

He sighed and put his chin in his hand and looked out the side of the car. This really needed to stop. It was distracting him from his real work that needed to be done, the work that would help Lloyd and the others. Lezarano was helping to rebuild the new world and take a leadership role in equality among the nations…but that was no small task, and could not be trusted to someone who could become corrupt.

Regal gave a small growl as mere thoughts of the company darkened his spirits. He hoped that this pattern would not continue, it was far too distracting and disabling for what needed to be done. But still…

He would see two heads of silver in the crowd below and wonder what ruins Raine had come across, or if Genis was advancing on his cooking.

He would hear some of the hotel bunnies yelping and giggling and he would think of the red-haired Romeo and his many reluctant Juliets.

He would see a small figure with pink hair, holding a balloon and would marvel at the stupidity of such an object when a perfectly fine axe would do.

The taste of Miso soup would call to mind the summoner in her quiet village and the role she now played as the successor.

Dogs would demand his attention as he recalled a sweet angel giving each and every creature an identity.

Laughter of any kind made him think of the brave boy who had led them all into battle…

The ride jerked to a stop and Regal stepped out, more melancholy than before. The amusement park now seemed too noisy and crowded. He took in a deep breath and began to walk down the pier, attempting to distract himself with the ocean, but failing. It was going to be a long rest of the day.

Regal sat low in his chair facing out onto the ocean. He'd gotten a stern, almost admonishing look from George when he had returned and he shamefully took up the role as president once more.

"Sir, your next interview is a Mr.-"

"Yeah yeah," Regal said in a rather unregal tone. "Just send them in so we can get this started."

George gave a small nod of his head and left, soon replaced by someone else.

"So," Regal began, hoping to pull of the intimidating president instead of the one that just didn't want to sully his hands with an interview. "What goals are you looking to gain here at Lezarano?"

"Well," came the light-hearted voice. "I've always had a weak spot for little hunnies, and I hear the president here is pretty cute."