Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places from Tales of Symphonia. But I do own this prequel. And the game. But not of the prequel.
Author's Notes and Stuff: Well, here we are, installment three of Shattering. This has probably been my fastest update EVER, so don't be expecting another chapter so fast. I'll work on it, I promise! I like this story now, so there you have it…Oh, I want to go ahead and warn you, I'm about the worst romance writer there is on this planet, so any helpful feedback (on anything, really) would be greatly appreciated. Also, the genre is probably going to be changing depending on what is up currently. Right now, it's part romance, because I read it and thought, "Hey! There is a love story! Well, I'll be…" So until that's out of the way, that's how it'll stay…partially. And what about the rest of the time? Eh, well, you'll see. So, without further ado…here you have it. Please read and review, and any feedback is greatly appreciated.
The Act of Shattering Peace:
Chapter Three:
Two Happy New Years
Winter came on strong and fast, overrunning autumn, and Yuan had barely finished tilling the ground when it froze over in a frustrating layer of permafrost.
"Well…thanks very much anyway," the owner of the land had said to him uncertainly, scratching her head. "It'll thaw…I know it will…eventually…"
But the land and his pointless job were not the only things on Yuan's mind. The old year was soon changing into the new, and it wouldn't be long before he would become one year older; his birthday was at the end of the month, right before the New Year. Martel had often told him he was lucky because of this, because that way, every new year of his birth was a new year entirely…however that worked. Yuan didn't really see it that way; his birthday was in mid-winter when everything was either dead, cold, or covered in a frustrating layer of permafrost. Martel, however, was born in the spring, when things were alive and in full bloom. It quite reflected her personality, he thought.
Regardless, winter had finally set in on Heimdall, bringing with it chilling winds and icy temperatures.
Yuan sighed as he looked out his window. It looked absolutely frigid; the trees were coated in a thin layer of ice and the ground looked absolutely stiff with frost. It was not a day he would be going outside if he could at all help it.
Sitting down in his small, somewhat forlorn chair, he stared into the fire he had made several hours ago. It was almost dead, smoldering in its unforgiving frame of stone. Another year going…another year coming…
And tomorrow was his birthday.
Yuan passed a hand over his face. He couldn't believe that time had passed so quickly…tomorrow would be his birthday and the last day of the year. Instead of feeling glad about the prospect of a birthday, he couldn't help but feel incredible dread. Because he had promised himself one thing: that he would talk to Martel about his situation by the first day of the New Year.
This task seemed nigh impossible, and made the prospect of his potential happiness very bleak indeed. Besides, must one look forward to getting rejected by the one they love on their birthday? So much for cheerful prospects.
Someone knocked on the door. Yuan looked up, then dragged himself reluctantly from his chair. He opened the door and started in surprise.
"Martel!" he said, then automatically, "Come in!" He stood aside to let her pass into his house and waited for Mithos to do the same.
After a few seconds of waiting, Yuan realized that Mithos wasn't there.
"How are you?" Yuan said, trying not to be too relieved in case Mithos suddenly popped in at the last second. He closed the door behind Martel. "What were you doing out in the cold?"
"Coming to see you, of course!" Martel said, beaming. Her cheeks were rosy from the frigidity of the wind, despite the heavy coat and scarf she was wearing. Struggling out of these thick garments, she beamed at Yuan. "You're almost a year older!"
"Y-yeah," Yuan said, smiling. "Come in, sit down. Sorry…it isn't much."
It was true; Yuan had a truly tiny house, with about two rooms max. He wasn't used to entertaining many guests…even Martel didn't usually make a habit of visiting him (that was because, of course, Yuan was always visiting her). The only person that seemed to come the most was Kratos, and his visiting schedule wasn't exactly a solid one.
Martel giggled.
"Don't be silly," she said, moving into the room and sitting down on one of the few odd pieces of furniture that Yuan possessed. "I've been here before! Besides, you know I love your house; it's so cozy!"
Yuan laughed a little himself. Martel was so nice to him…
"S-so," he said, abruptly interrupting his thoughts before they could continue into something no doubt agonizing. "Uh, do you want anything warm to drink? It's pretty cold out there…"
"Yes, please!" Martel said, beaming. "Something warm sounds lovely!"
Yuan nodded slightly, then busied himself with getting "something warm" heated up. His mind spun furiously. What was he supposed to say now? She had just shown up out of the blue…it wasn't as if it happened all the time. Yuan frowned slightly, his back to Martel, trying to think of something somewhat intelligent to say, when she spoke.
"How did the gardening turn out?"
"Oh!" Yuan said, staring at his kettle, willing it to start whistling already. "Uh, well, it went fine…it's kind of frozen now, but…"
"I'm sorry," Martel said, and she sounded it. "You put in a lot of hard work on that garden…"
"No, no, don't be sorry!" Yuan said hastily, turning to see that she had gotten up from her seat and was now walking over to him. "It…wasn't such a big job! And you know, you don't have to get up, I'll bring your drink to you…"
Martel smiled at him, causing Yuan's face to turn a different shade of pink. "I know," she said. "You're always so nice like that, Yuan. I just wanted to be closer. It's easier to talk that way."
Yuan's face grew steadily darker and he tried desperately not to do something entirely rash. He succeeded, and managed a smile before turning to stare at the kettle.
"A watched pot never boils," Martel said.
"Good thing it's a kettle."
"Yes, it is a good thing. Maybe staring works with kettles."
Yuan smiled. Martel was such a nice person to talk to, in fact, one of the only people he felt he could talk to about anything. Well, except for one thing, that is. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that that was hypocritical and didn't make any sense, but there was no use. He just couldn't tell her, not yet.
He glanced over at her, staring intently at the kettle. She was so…cute, for a lack of better words. Her brilliant eyes were fixed determinedly on the kettle, face set in concentration, just like a little kid waiting for something great to happen. Her long, golden hair framed her face, accentuating the perfect angle of her jaw line. She was just so flawless, so utterly perfect, Yuan could hardly stand it.
"Martel," he said suddenly, forcing himself to speak while he still was in his right mind. She looked up from the kettle immediately.
"Yes?"
"I…I want to tell you something."
A smile formed on her lips.
"What is it?"
"I…I just wanted to say that…I…" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them, he smiled sadly at her. "I'm really glad you came to see me."
---
The yearly celebrations in Heimdall were certainly great ones indeed. For any holiday or event, the elves and half-elves of Heimdall would turn out the finest celebrations and parties in the whole world. Due to their secluded location, however, knowledge of their festivities didn't travel far, and thus Heimdall attracted rarely any tourists. Which was all the better, because parties were better without tourists anyway.
So on the eve of the New Year, everyone in Heimdall was busy laughing and talking and setting up for the great party that night. Spirits were high, and there was hardly a person who could be seen sleeping late or doing nothing. Even the oldest of elves were participating, if personally tasting each of the ales to be served that night counted as participating. There was one, however, who was not working hard with everyone else just yet, and it was very understandable that he shouldn't be. After all, he was a year older.
Yuan woke to the sound of hammering. Blearily, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, noting that, though the day was cloudy, the morning had to be well on its way by then. He looked out his window, where the source of the noise was coming from. A large tent was being erected in the town square. This reminded him that it was New Year's Eve, and it also happened to be his birthday.
His birthday. He thought about that for a moment, then smiled. He was twenty-one.
Yuan laughed, got out of bed, and stretched. Twenty-one had to be the best year to turn. He was taking his first steps into being an adult, and besides that, he could drink.
After getting dressed and taming his hair, he tied the blue locks back in a pony tail and emerged into his kitchen-living-sitting-everything room. Yuan scratched his head and walked to his woodstove to get a fire started.
There was a knock on the door. Yuan got to his feet, abandoning the stove and padded to the door. This would be the most visitors he had had in weeks. Two in two days. He was lucky. Opening the door, he saw a red-haired swordsman standing outside.
"Kratos!" Yuan said, opening the door further and allowing him in. "Come in, come in!"
"Good morning, Yuan," Kratos said, entering Yuan's small house. "And may I congratulate you on surviving another year."
"Your embarrassing me, sit down!" Yuan said. Kratos obliged, and it was then that Yuan noticed the package that Kratos was carrying. Yuan smirked and sarcastically added, "Oh, and you've brought a gift for me? How nice."
"As a matter of fact, it is a gift," Kratos said, lifting it onto Yuan's small table. The parcel was so long, it stuck out on either end of the table. Yuan stared at it.
"I…was just joking," he said, coming to look at it. He looked up at Kratos disbelievingly. "This…is actually for me?"
Kratos nodded slowly, and even smiled.
"Yes," he said. "I believe you're old enough for it."
"Kratos, you're only about three years older than me—"
"Three and three-quarters."
"Fine, three and three-quarters. That's no reason to act so—"
"So you don't want it? Very well…I shall take it back."
Kratos made to pick up the parcel, but Yuan slammed his hand down on it.
"No," he said, not willing to give up his birthday present. "You're not taking it that easy. No cheating, Kratos, you already gave it to me…"
"You have to accept it for it to be a valid trade."
"I accept it, then," Yuan said with a slight smirk. "Now if you don't mind, Lord Kratos, I'm going to open it."
Kratos laughed as Yuan ripped into the packaging. "Still a child."
"A child who can drink," Yuan corrected. "Those are even more…"
He trailed off as he saw what was in the package. With a shaking hand, he picked it up and let the rest of the paper fall to the floor.
It was magnificent; two gleaming blades curved at either end of the weapon, held together by a metal pole in the middle, serving as a handle. Yuan had never seen something so beautiful and lethal at the same time. Silvers and golds ran the length of the glorious thing, shimmering at the slightest change in light. He gaped at it, and then at Kratos.
"This…this's for me?"
Kratos nodded once.
"I thought you would appreciate it," he said. "After all, you are old enough to start protecting the things you care about. You aren't a child anymore, however much you like to act like one."
"But," Yuan protested. "I don't know what to do with this! How do I use it?"
"If you like," Kratos said. "I can instruct you in the ways of that blade."
"Yeah, that'd be—!"
"But you would have to be dedicated," Kratos said, crossing his arms across his chest and smirking at him. "And you would have to work hard. Are you prepared?"
Yuan tightened his hold on his new weapon, and nodded.
"Very well then," Kratos said, getting to his feet. "That is settled."
"When do we start?"
"Soon," Kratos said simply. "You will know when." He turned toward the door.
"Kratos!" Yuan said. Kratos paused. "…Thanks."
Kratos said nothing, a rare smile curving his mouth. Then, before Yuan could so much as blink, Kratos had his blade at his throat.
"Haaah!" Yuan shouted, not daring to move. "Kratos! What're you tryin' to—"
"Rule number one," Kratos said, his sword an inch from Yuan's life. "Always be on guard." The swordsman smiled sarcastically and sheathed his sword.
"Y-you're going to be the death of me, Kratos," Yuan said weakly, rubbing his neck with his free hand while sinking down in the nearest chair.
Kratos raised an eyebrow.
"Only if you wish it to be so," he said. "But that is beside the point. I was sent here on a mission by a certain Miss Martel to invite you to her accommodation today. You are already late, so I suggest you hurry."
"What? Martel…ah! No, I can't be late!"
"No, you most certainly shouldn't be late."
"Don't get that tone with me! You were the one who didn't tell me the information on time!"
"And if you had any sense of time in the first place, you would realize it is almost noon and that her invitation was for breakfast."
"What! No! Kratos, why do you enjoy tormenting me?"
"Well, I admit, my life can become very boring at some points."
Setting his weapon down on the table, Yuan dashed to the door, grabbing his coat on the way.
"As much as I admire your determination to see Miss Martel as soon as you physically can," Kratos said mildly. "I do believe that boots in this weather would be appropriate."
Yuan glanced down at his bare feet.
"…Damn it!" he growled. He grabbed his boots and stuffed his feet into them, then tumbled out the door and into the cold afternoon of his birthday.
---
Night fell to a terrific cacophony of various noisemakers and shouting as the festivities for the coming New Year finally began. Despite their initial stereotype, elves and half-elves were not at all the subdued and reserved creatures, especially during any sort of celebration. This was also true when there was ale around.
Yuan, finally being of drinking age, found himself having drinks forced upon him the entire night. He had to politely decline, however, because he wanted to have all his wits about him for what he was at least going to try and do that evening. Kratos, it seemed, was more than happy to accept some of his drinks for him, although not once did Yuan catch Kratos disobeying his own rule. He always appeared to be alert as usual, despite the amount of alcohol he was consuming. Yuan vaguely wondered if that had to do with him being human.
So instead of drinking, Yuan found something much more enjoyable and calming to do: Martel-watching. Martel was helping out with the celebration by bringing around drinks to the various drinkers and food to the various eaters. He found himself realizing several times how beautiful she was. How could anyone not think that?
Come to think about it, there were probably very few people who did not think that Martel was pretty. In fact, the same were probably thinking something else as well, something that made Yuan fume with rage. The sly glances coming from a great portion of the male patrons of the party was enough to convince him of that. Yuan scowled as one of them caught Martel's attention, then proceeded to touch her arm while speaking to her. His hands balled into fists on the table.
A small laugh to his left made Yuan glance over at Kratos. The swordsman was smirking at him.
"Are you reconsidering the advice I gave you?"
I would suggest you start making that clear to her.
"Yes," Yuan said through clenched teeth as he watched the man flirt with Martel. It was all he could do to not get up and wipe that dirty smile off of that stupid elf's face. He may be younger than that guy, but there was no way he'd lose to him in a fight…especially if it was over Martel.
"Now you see," Kratos said quietly. "Why I told you what I did."
"Shut up, Kratos," Yuan said, still glaring bloody murder at the elf. "You're drunk."
Kratos laughed at this.
"Hardly," he said. "It is not in my nature to get drunk."
"Yeah, yeah, keep talkin'," Yuan said, more to the elf than to Kratos. His knuckles turned white on the tabletop.
"Why are you still here?" Kratos said quietly. Yuan noticed that he was reprimanding him. "Are you going to let him take her?"
Yuan glared at the elf. His hand was still on Martel's arm.
"Like Hell I am," Yuan snarled and got up from his seat abruptly.
"Don't make a mess of things," Kratos called to him as he left his seat. The swordsman chuckled watching the blue-haired half-elf stalk through the crowd. "Transparent, that one," he murmured. Taking another swig of his drink, he glanced around and realized that the party was one golden-haired individual short. His eyes narrowed.
---
Yuan shouldered his way through the small crowd separating Martel and himself, and shortly arrived at her location. Now that the elf was up close, Yuan could see that he wasn't an elf at all; just some strange foreigner. One of the very few tourists.
"—And I was just telling my friend that you look just like a girl I used to know back in Meltokio—"
"Oh?" Martel said. She sounded strained, and she was looked as if she were trying desperately to look interested at what the man was saying as well as trying to ignore his hand on her arm.
"Yeah," the man said tipsily, his hand snaking further up Martel's arm. "And I was also sayin' what a waste it would be if a beauty like you was—"
"Excuse me," Yuan said, coming up behind Martel and smoothly pulling her out of the man's grip. "I'm sorry, sir, I just need to borrow her for a moment. I trust you're enjoying the festivities?"
"Huh?" the man said drunkenly, blinking at Yuan. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, it's great." He seemed rather put-out now that Yuan was there. Obviously he didn't think Yuan was as equally pretty as Martel, which quite a few people would agree with.
"That's wonderful," Yuan said in a simpering tone. "Now, if you'll excuse us…"
And without further ado, Yuan steered Martel away from the table.
He didn't stop or say anything until they had breached the edge of the shadow that surrounded the highly lit area of the town square. There, he let go of Martel reluctantly and sighed.
"Sorry," he said immediately. "I had no right to, but you looked…well…"
He was silenced as Martel wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, squeezing him tight. "I thought I'd never be saved from that man!"
Yuan looked down at her, surprised. After a second, his face relaxed into a small smile, and he held her to him, glad for the chance to be so close to her. By her own will too.
"He kept going on about that girl in Meltokio," Martel said, her voice muffled in Yuan's shirt. "And how I looked exactly like her, and what exactly he used to think and do to that poor woman…"
"Shh," Yuan said, but he found himself smiling all the same. "It's all right. He won't do anything to you." At this thought, his easy smile turned into a deep frown. Oh, that man had better not even try anything…his mind traveled to the weapon he had at home and how much damage to a person it could potentially inflict.
"I know he won't," Martel said softly. "You're here."
"That's right," Yuan murmured, not really realizing what he was saying. One hand began to unconsciously stroke her golden hair. He quite liked this, he decided. He would have to add holding Martel to his list of his favorite things to do.
He laughed softly at that thought. Martel stirred in his grasp and looked up at him curiously, pulling away. A smile lit her face, however hard it was to see in the dark.
"What is it?" she asked with that girlish innocence that she seemed to have never grown out of.
Yuan didn't say anything, just smiled at her. It was amazing; he hadn't really thought about it, but he would do anything for her. He loved her so terribly, it was as if she were a part of him already, a part he couldn't deny, no matter how hard he tried. "Saving" her from that man was hardly an act of courage, but for ordinary-Yuan, that was a nearly impossible task. To talk with such cheek to a foreigner who was older and stronger than him, was unthinkable. But for Martel, he would do anything. Ordinary-Yuan would disappear, and a different Yuan would emerge: the Yuan that didn't screw up day-to-day activities and could protect the things he cared about. The people he cared about.
"What is it?" Martel asked again, then worriedly, "Did I say anything weird?"
Yuan smiled and placed a hand on her head.
"It's amazing, Martel," he said. "How long we've known each other."
"Yes!" Martel said brightly. "Since we were kids!"
Yuan nodded, then ruffled her hair with his hand.
"Ah! Yuan…" She giggled, shaking her head to try and restore order to her hair. "You used to do that, didn't you?"
Yuan nodded again, still smiling down at her. "All the time." He removed his hand from her head, although with some reluctance; he wished he could keep at least one bridge of physical contact with her.
"You haven't changed, Yuan," Martel said.
Yuan raised his eyebrows. "Surely I have a little?" he said.
Martel laughed and considered this. "Maybe…a little," she said, winking. She stood on her toes and touched the top of his head. "You've grown taller."
"Thank Kharlan," Yuan said, and Martel laughed again.
"Hmm…you've gotten…older."
"Hopefully. It's been about eight years since we were kids."
"Eight years?"
Yuan paused a moment, then nodded.
"Yes. I was thirteen, remember? And you were eleven. And Mithos was three. And I remember that I had wandered too far from home, and for some reason I got lost or something…"
Martel stayed silent, but she nodded at the last part.
"That's right!" she said excitedly, remembering. "You came to my door and asked if I had seen…"
"My dog!" Yuan said triumphantly. "That's right, I had a dog who ran away! There, I knew I wasn't so stupid to get lost in my own town…"
Martel giggled. "You're not stupid," she said quietly.
Yuan laughed. "You'd be surprised."
"Oh!" Martel said suddenly. "Speaking of surprises, I haven't given you your birthday present yet!"
"Huh?" Yuan said, taken aback. "But…you did. You already had me over for lunch…"
Martel shook her head. "No, silly, that wasn't your birthday present. Close your eyes and I'll give it to you."
With a quizzical glance at Martel, Yuan closed his eyes.
"All right," he said. "Eyes closed."
"Sorry…it isn't very much," Martel said quietly.
"Don't b—"
Yuan had started to say something like, "Don't be ridiculous", but stopped short as he felt Martel's lips caress his cheek. At that moment, words immediately became useless and trivial things that didn't seem to have any meaning or purpose.
Yuan opened his eyes and stared at Martel for a moment, unable to do or say anything immediately due to shock. Martel attempted a shy smile.
"Um…happy birthday."
Before he could truly register what his body was doing, Yuan leaned forward, gently taking Martel's head in one hand, and pressed his mouth against hers, praying to Kharlan that he wouldn't screw up this at least. Please, I know I have to screw up something, but don't…please don't let it be this…
And it didn't seem as if he was. Although surprised by his actions, Martel seemed to have recovered pretty quickly and she allowed Yuan to kiss her. But it wasn't the polite tolerance of someone not really wanting to be there; she was actually enjoying it, one hand holding onto his arm.
After a moment, they broke apart, and Yuan breathed in deeply several times, trying to get a hold of his bearings before he did anything rash again. Well, he had done it. If that wasn't an obvious sketch of how he felt, he didn't know how else to put it. He just hoped that he wouldn't be forced to spell it out just yet, because, well, he didn't think he could.
"Martel," he said quickly, after he realized she hadn't said anything yet. "I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Panic started to bloom inside his chest. He had screwed this up after all, hadn't he?
But to his great relief, Martel laughed. Not at him, but at his apology…or so he hoped.
"Please don't be," Martel said, smiling. "Because I am very, very glad."
Yuan blinked several times, then a strangled laugh made its way from his lungs. He hadn't messed it up at all! And, even better, he hadn't been rejected! By all means, this had to be the best birthday in his entire life.
"I," said Yuan quietly, pulling Martel to him in a hug and stroking her hair again, "Am very, very glad too."
---
Mithos sat in the shadow of the nearest house, watching his sister and Yuan talk. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see them well enough. His sister rushed forward to hug the stupid, blue-haired oaf, but he could hardly blame her. If he were being harassed by someone, he would be grateful to his savior, even if it was that stupid idiot. But why did it have to be him!
They were talking again, or so he could tell. Martel reached up to whisper something in his ear, and then…
Mithos' eyes narrowed into slits as he saw what happened next. He knew it. So that coward actually had the guts to do it. Well, if he thought he was going to get off easy, he was wrong. Nobody did that to his, Mithos', sister without getting punishment. That stupid bastard of a half-elf would soon find the whole village against him. Mithos smirked. "Stupid half-elf"…it kind of had a ring to it.
But whatever his punishment it was, it would be severe. There would be no apologies accepted or even pleas for forgiveness. Maybe if he begged for mercy, he might take some pity on him. Regardless, the solution was clear:
That bastard had to die.
