I can't really say much without risking spoilers for the plot... Except that I have MAJOR plans for this story. Hehehe...

Shortish chapter for the first one, only to introduce the story really. And hint at the concept. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Tales of Symphonia.

Vestige

CHAPTER 1 - Lloyd Irving

Lloyd wasn't sure where he was.

All he knew is that he was somewhere – someplace that was not of his memory. Thick mist had shrouded his surroundings, making his sight near useless. He could make out the trees further ahead, and the glassy surface of the lake lying next to him. Everything else, he found, had blended in with its surroundings, completely and utterly lost.

A twig snapped to his left, and the young teenager grabbed his two practice swords out of habit. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

A giggle rang through the empty air, clear and precise. Lloyd jumped, his landing resonating through out the atmosphere. "Hello?" he called once more, now taking paces forward.

The dual swordsman snapped his head to his right at the sound of the water's splash. His grip tightening around each hilt, Lloyd Irving stopped at the water's edge, his eyes darting past the water's edge. "If you do not show yourself-"

A final interruption of silence was met midway through his sentence, setting Lloyd in the direction of the newly found person. The boy's eyes fell, his arms dropping back to his side, before he lost every offense and defense he original held. "W-who are you?" he murmured in awe.

As the light grew stronger, Lloyd shielded his deep brown eyes before it completely penetrated the mist. Grabbing the courage to look past the light, Lloyd lifted his gaze to the figure standing tall on the water's surface. A pale, outstretched hand stood out in his vision of a white clad figure and a curtain of blond hair…

Lloyd shot upright from underneath his covers, arms flying to catch him from his own fall. Perspiration had gathered over his skin, his black tank clinging to his body. He ran a hand through his chocolate brown hair, combing it back into its more normal position. It was only a dream… Shaking his head, the boy looked at his workbench in silence. He had not had a project in years, since he had been taught how to build his toys…

Two loud thuds vibrated through the house walls. "Lloyd! Ye better be up if ye want breakfast!"

Lloyd let out a partially exasperated sigh. "Coming, Dad!"

At the small table, set for only two, Lloyd quietly chewed on the contents of his meal. He stared into the rim of his glass, examining the still water. A lake… The sounds of the water echoed through his mind, followed by the laughs of the girl. Just… who was she?

"Lloyd."

The teenager broke his attention away from his drink, dropping his gaze back to the table. "Yeah?" the teenager sighed.

"Ye hae been starin' at yer cup for the past ten minutes," Dirk pointed out, gesturing to the said cup.

"Oh. I guess I have," Lloyd shook his head, sighing. Dirk reached for his fork silently, leaving the boy to mull over his thoughts. "…Hey Dad?"

"What is it, my son?"

"What did my mother look like?"

Dirk crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a full sigh. "She was a beautiful young lass," he said, pushing further back into his chair. "Ye have her eyes." Dirk's expression fell, eyes concentrated on the floorboards. "When she died, she told me many things."

"I know," Lloyd replied, a dark rumble in his tone. A fist was clenched tightly at his side, pressing harder against the side of his chair. "He killed her, my father…" Lloyd's hands relaxed, resting against his thighs once more. "But my mother, she never had… blond hair or anything, did she?"

"Blond hair? No, me lad, her hair was the same color as yar's." Dirk's eyebrows furrowed, the dwarf's curiosity increasing. "Why are ye asking so many questions about ye mother?"

Lloyd struggled to keep a straight face. "No reason." He pushed back his seat, rising from his chair. "I have to leave, Dad. If I don't go now, I'll never make it to school on time."

"Ye right," his adopted father agreed with a nod of the head. "The trip to Iselia is not a fast once especially on foot." Lloyd fastened his jacket on over his chest, and clipped the suspenders over from his jacket. "Be careful, me son."

Lloyd pulled on his gloves after fixing his boots. "I will, Dad," Lloyd assured. Dirk shook his head, and finally leaving his chair, he retreated back to his workshop, shuffling through various weapons. After finding the blades he had been searching for, he returned to the kitchen, placing the dual swords on the dining table.

"Here," he said, pushing them closer to his son. "Take these. Ye probably won't need them, but just in case-"

Lloyd picked up the swords, weighing them I each hand. Grabbing the hilt of one, Lloyd exposed a few inches of the sword. "They look good," he observed.

"I made them many years ago, when ye started using those two practicing swords," Dirk explained. Lloyd unclipped from his belt his old swords, placing them back on the table before he clipped on the new swords. "Take care of them, and take care of yourself."

Lloyd laughed. "Dad, I'm just going to school. It's not like I'm leaving on a life long journey!"

"…You are right," Dirk agreed, hesitant.

Lloyd grinned, giving his thanks before exiting through the door. He was met by fresh air, decorated by the blossoming of the fruit trees. Lloyd began to walk, a steady pace down the path towards his mother's gravestone. "Mom…" he whispered, kneeling against in front of the pillar. "I'm leaving. I don't know why, or who that girl is. I was hoping… it was you." Lloyd smiled, bringing his palm to the face of the stone. "I'm sorry that you're not here right now. If… I ever see Dad." He shook his head. "Nevermind. I'll see you later, Mom!"

Bringing himself to his feet, Lloyd dashed towards the forest, his hands by his new sword's side.

[o][o][o][o][o][o][o][o]

"Wait!"

Lloyd bolted to the lake at the sound of water once more. He waved his hands relentlessly in front of his eyes, clearing away what he could of the mist. Lloyd stopped at the edge, almost tripping face first into the lake. He gazed ahead, trying to penetrate through the mist himself. It was then he found a detail he had never seen in his past nights of the same dream.

Stepping stones.

Lloyd looked back up, the figure standing seemingly on the surface of the lake giggling. Scrounging his own courage, Lloyd made a leap, landing solidly on the first rock. His confidence rose, and the boy looked ahead, spotting the next set of rocks. The figure in white stood still, and Lloyd punched inward.

"Alright, I can do this." He placed one foot on the next stone, carefully stepping on each rock of the path. She giggled again from afar, causing Lloyd to look back ahead. "No, wait!" he pleaded, hastening his pace. She stopped from her own travels, and Lloyd took this as his opportunity to catch up. Chanting in his mind to not fall, Lloyd made it further, seven stones further, before he found himself right behind the girl.

"Who are you?" he asked, shaking his head. When she didn't give a response, he began to speak again. "I don't know you. I've never met you in my life! But you keep appearing in my dreams!" Lloyd threw his hands into the air. "Are you even listening? Do you even exist?"

He reached forward, his hand aiming for her shoulder when two hands caught his. Lloyd's eyes widened at the unturned figure, whom sandwiched his left hand in hers. "What…"

Suddenly, a blinding light emitted from her hands. Lloyd found himself awestruck by the occurrence of sorts that was like nothing he had ever seen. 'Is this magic? No, magic doesn't exist. It only is told of in the Legends…' The light grew, engulfing the pair, chasing away the mist. Lloyd found his ribbons being pushed back, and at the same time, the girl's curtain of blond hair had begun to rise with this "spell." A warm sensation spilled over the back of hand, as the white light melted into a blue. The light dimmed into nothing, and Lloyd's hand was released, his arm falling limply at his side.

"Wh-what was that?" he whispered in awe. The feeling, the sensation that had filled him had disappeared, leaving the teenager feeling cold. "Please… tell me…" He reached quickly for her shoulder, but where his hand would've made contact, he passed through. As if she were an apparition. Lloyd fell forward, making a headfirst landing into the lake.

Lloyd choked on the water filling his mouth and nose, his own body coughing it back up. He resurfaced, gasping for air. He rubbed his eyes subconsciously, an attempt to clear his vision when something hit his skin. It was hard, smooth, something he didn't remember ever placing on his left hand. As he begun to open his eyes, a sharp pain erupted from the top of his head, causing the boy to wince in pain.

"Lloyd Irving, wake up!"

Lloyd sat back up in his seat, rubbing the top of his head. A short, archaic man glared through his thick glasses, wielding a meter stick in his hand maliciously. "Next time you fall asleep in my class, you'll regret it boy!" he threatened. Waddling back to the chalkboard, he pointed with his meter stick and resumed to his previous lecture.

Lloyd rested his head against his hand, his fingers weaving into his hair. I don't understand… Why… Why do I keep having this dream… Images of the girl ran through his head, causing Lloyd to shake his head in frustration. What does it all mean?

"You should try to at least look like you're taking notes, Lloyd." Lloyd turned his head to his right. "Old Professor Ivy might make you do something horrible."

"Maybe," Lloyd agreed. His eyes sauntered to his right as his turned his head back to the board. "What do you know about magic, Tristan?"

"Magic?" Tristan repeated. His eyes rolled back, the black haired boy going deeper into thought. "I only know what they say in the legends. Magic was used when the world was created, but after some times, the secrets of magic disappeared for millenniums." He shook his head. "Or that's what they say, anyway. Magic doesn't exist in this world. Not anymore, anyway."

A frown fell on Lloyd's face. "Alright. Thanks."

"No problem, Llo- crap, take notes, Ivy is looking at you!"

Lloyd brought his head away from his hand, searching for his quill. "Mr. Irving," Professor Ivy called over the classroom, his voice taut. "Because you are such a scholar, that would never have to pay attention class, would you care enlightening your friends by sharing your intellect? Perhaps you should start with your multiplication tables."

Lloyd gritted his teeth, his hands clamping tightly into fists. "Palms flat on your desk. We wouldn't want you counting on your fingers, now would we, Mr. Irving?"

Lloyd hit his hands against the desk, hatred boiling through his mind. "Very good. Now, lets start with the basic. Two times two, if you will please."

"Two times two… four," Lloyd murmured, voice tense.

"Very good. Now, two times three."

Lloyd glared onto the desk. He hated school, more than anything in the world. In school, he was always mocked at, insulted for his stupidity. Ivy, no Professor Ivy, was the main cause, always putting down the boy for trying. Lloyd eyes sauntered to his left hand, beginning to count on his fingers as he usually did when his eyes halted.

How long… No, there's no way. That was a dream… It couldn't be from there…

"Mr. Irving?" Lloyd looked away from his hand, rising immediately from his chair. "Lloyd Irving, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm not feeling well, Professor Sage," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "I think I need to see a doctor..."

"Professor Sage? Boy, listen to me!" A meter stick crackled against a desk, causing Lloyd to jump. "My name is Professor Ivy! How dare you confuse me with another name you useless, wretched-" The old man's face turned red, causing Lloyd to rub his temple in confusion.

"I… I don't know. Forgive me, Professor."

Professor Ivy glared coldly. "Perhaps you need the doctor more than you think."

Lloyd glared back, trudging out of the class in rage. Why is he always like that to me? Lloyd questioned as he pushed through the school door. Why did I call him Professor Sage? Who is Professor Sage to begin with? And why… no…

Lloyd lifted his left hand, sight falling onto the back. A gold mount was pressed against his skin, through a cut out that had been made by his glove. All the while, there was a blue gem attached to his skin, centered in the gold. He recalled the soft hands that had earlier grabbed his hand, his left hand when he reached for her shoulder. That and the magic, the sorcery he was sure had taken place after. What is this thing?

To Lloyd Irving, nothing at the moment made any sense.