Tales of Symphonia © Namco
Getting spotted by guards wasn't a part of the plan—but, unfortunately, the plan seems to not give a fuck, because here I am, running through the halls of the castle while silently cursing myself. Guards tail behind me, their heavy armor keeping them back thankfully.
When I first stepped out of the halls, it was deserted; after a few minutes of nothing I'd let my guard down, which was exactly when I caught the eyes of a knight.
Which is how I found myself in my current situation. I weave around a startled maid who lets out a cry of surprise, nearly dropping the basket in her hands. I don't have time to apologize, as probably five more guards come through a door only meters away.
They move, but so do I.
My legs burn as I hurry up the stairs, practically tripping over my own feet when they hit the second to last step. I recover quickly, and shoot a quick glance behind me. The knights are following, but their armor is slowing them down considerably.
Good. I turn right, running down another hall. If I'm remembering right, the meeting room should be right here ... just past this hall, and there it will be — sitting above the lower level.
I slow down to a walk when I exit the hallway, and feel my breath catch in my throat. I am on the upper level, and I can in fact see the lowest floor, though not the one I expect. Instead of looking over the entrance of the castle, I'm looking over one of the larger hallways. There are three more passages; one across from me, on the other side of this ledge, and two on the other wall.
Any one of those could lead to the room I need to get to, but which one? This entire area is massive and I swallow thickly as I realize that I still have quite a ways to go.
Hearing the clinking of armor behind me, I breathe in deeply and sprint forward, towards the door on the upper left corner. There's one straight ahead, but I don't want to take that one. Too straightforward. I just hope that this path loops around to the same area that one does.
When I'm through there, I take only a second to glance at my surroundings before continuing running. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea where the hell I am; I'm just taking random turns and hoping it doesn't end up screwing me over. But I can't afford to stop and think about which way to go.
Left. Left. Straight. Right. Down.
Minutes later I'm on the second level, and my lungs are screaming for air. Despite the overwhelming urge to stop for a breath, I force myself forward, down another flight of stairs so I'm on the first floor again. I can't rest now, there will be time for rest later but not right now.
However, I can't go on much longer. My endurance for running is terrible.
I make it halfway down the hallway when I hear voices from ahead of me. I stop dead in my tracks, freezing. From where I came, I can hear the knights ... there's no way out, dammit, dammit —
I look around frantically, spotting a door to my left. Without really thinking, I yank it open. A supply closet. I spare no time stepping in and closing it as quickly, and quietly, as I can. I then press myself up against the wall, keeping one hand on the doorknob as I struggle to catch my breath.
The voices grow louder as they pass the door, but suddenly their talking stops and I hold my breath, despite my need for air.
"You three — have you seen anyone come through here?"
I hear confused mumbling before a sweet, but nervous voice replies, "No, we have not."
My lungs burn, but I bite my tongue hard. Not now. You can breathe later but now is not the time.
I hear a knight growl in irritation. "Are you sure? There is an intruder and anyone withholding information will be severely punished."
Another voice this time. "She told you, we didn't see anyone!"
I stiffen when I hear a loud, sharp smack, followed by silence. I squeeze my eyes shut as the knight snaps, "Don't you talk back to me, girl! Learn your place; you are maids. You have no business taking such a tone."
There isn't any reply from the girls. An eternity — or at least, it feels like an eternity — later, the knight finally lets out a 'tch'. "Lets go. Get back to your stations."
I hear armor clinking away, and after a few seconds the girls mutter between themselves, cursing the knights while one of them cries quietly. I wait until I hear complete silence to breathe out and slump my posture, and just for extra reassurance, I wait a good minute before I completely relax. By this time my breathing has returned to normal.
That was much too close.
Taking time to gather my bearings, I slowly open the storage closet and peak into the hallway. Empty.
I shut the door behind me, and inch my way up another flight of stairs. This time, though, I'm cautious, sticking close to the walls. Once I'm successfully back on the second level, I suck in a deep breath, and begin running again.
It's even harder to start back up. My legs protest violently against the motion, already burning from the sprinting and fatigue of the past few days. I grit my teeth, ignoring the pain to the best of my ability as I hurry through the halls. It's silent, which should calm me, but it only unnerves me. Where are all the knights? They can't all be on the other side of the castle ... are they hidden?
I probably jinxed myself, really, because not even a minute later I have to skid to a halt as a group of three knights hurries in front of me.
"There she is!"
I swear under my breath.
Turning on my heel, I go back the way I came. This time, though, I run up the staircase that I passed just a minute ago. I skip the last two stairs, almost falling on my face in the process, and shoot left and down the halls. Paintings blur with the wall in my peripheral vision.
Once again, after I exit the hall, I slow down until I'm walking. I'm looking over at the first floor again, except this time, it's different. I can see large, double oak doors at the very north, and beautiful decorations along the wall. A red carpet leads forward, underneath the ledge I'm standing on. The entrance. This is the entrance to the castle, meaning that the door should be … right here.
I turn, and lock gazes with the single Papal Knight standing in front of a large door. It's much more intricate than the other doors, and I practically sigh in relief when I realize I found the room. I probably would've if it wasn't for the knight guarding it.
He stiffens, and comes towards me while ordering, "You — stay where you are!"
I bite my lip, realizing I'm trapped. One knight in front of me, and three coming up behind me.
No, no I can't be caught now ... I've made it this far, and to be captured and thrown out when I reach where I need to be would be terrible.
So, of course, with the logical side of me shutting down, the illogical side takes over.
Before I know it I'm running forward. The Papal Knight grabs for me, and I dive at the floor and roll underneath his arm, ending up behind him. Without really thinking I turn to the doors and fling them open.
Inside, I see seven shocked faces staring at me. Some are familiar; blue hair — Yuan —, red hair — Zelos —, and two men dressed in much lighter and convenient armor on either side of Yuan — renegades —. Others, though, I don't recognize, though I know exactly who they are. An older man, similar to the pictures of Jesus I've seen back in my world, a pretty blonde girl in an extravagant and beautiful dress, and a pudgy, angry looking man dressed in Clergy clothes.
The king, the princess, and the Pope. Wonderful. But then ... where's —
I look to the side, and see another shocked face staring at me; Sheena. She's kneeling, and before anyone can say anything my face is shoved into the floor.
A heavy weight situates itself on my back, pinning my arms behind me and pressing its weight onto me. I let out a strangled cry, struggling against the force holding me to the floor.
"What's going on here?" A voice — presumably the king — questions. Though his voice is steady, it isn't loud. But it clearly carries authority.
The response comes from the knight above me. "Your Majesty — this girl was found sneaking around the castle; we attempted to apprehend her, but she ran off before we could. We severely apologize for our incompetence and for allowing her disturb you!"
I struggle more, trying to at least lift my body up a little bit. "G-Get off of me!" I snap, struggling to breathe from the additional weight.
"Wait — your majesty!" I identify the voice as Sheena. "Please, order them off of her; she isn't a danger, I can vouch that myself!"
I grimace as my head is shoved into the hard flooring again, squeezing my eyes shut. Fuck, this is really starting to hurt. The floor is pressing hard against my bones, and I could cry in relief when the pressure is finally lifted off of me. They don't leave, though.
I let out a grunt, shakily pushing myself up by my arms. For a second or two, I simply breathe in deeply, trying to calm the intense headache that appeared. Soon, though, I remember where I am — and why —, and scramble to my feet.
"Your majesty —!" I'm cut off when I'm pulled back by the hood of my outfit. A strangled yelp slips from my lips, and I snap my elbow back, attempting to elbow the knight who nearly choked me. My elbow is grabbed tightly, and I bite the inside of my lip to stop a stream of curses from coming out.
The King simply holds up a hand, and reluctantly my collar and arm are released. Gingerly I rub at my neck as the King says, "Child; what is your business here?"
I grimace once more, before straightening my posture and bowing low — or at least, as low as I can.
"I — I have come to request permission to accompany Sheena on her mission; p-please, allow me to!"
The words tumble out before I can think to stop them, and much to my annoyance I realize that what came out isn't nearly as articulate and convincing as I thought it would be. It sounded so much better in my head; at least I didn't stutter too badly.
I hear said person suck in a breath, and I swear that I hear a faint snort from Zelos's direction. There's a brief silence, before it's broken by a condescending voice. "Who are you to think you can tag onto such an important mission?"
I straighten up, and realize that it's the Pope who spoke. His face is a bright red, and his beady eyes are glaring venomously at me. I'm a bit taken back by the suddenness of his question, and I gap like a fish as my brain tries to formulate an answer.
'I need to go so I can help save the world from an insane boy with a sister complex,' I think to myself, knowing that I can't say such a thing. So instead I bite the inside of my cheek and say, "Who are you to tell me th-that I cannot?"
Okay, that came out much ruder than I intended it to. I can tell it pisses him off, seeing as his face scrunches up in an ugly fashion. Again, I hear a snort from Zelos, who isn't even trying to contain his amusement. I look over at Sheena, whose shock has laid off and is replaced with confusion and annoyance. I've almost forgotten about the Renegades until I hear a deep, yet familiar voice ask, "Who are you, girl?"
I turn, looking at the long, blue haired man beside the Pope; Yuan. He's ... intimidating, to say the least. Taller than I expected him to be, and much sterner looking than I would've thought. His cape isn't here, though, and instead he's wearing a standard Renegade uniform. Well, almost standard. The colours are different, as is the design, and it clearly sets his rank apart from the grunts beside him.
I'm taken aback again, this time from intimidation. "Uh ... Eden," I reply slowly, rolling my shoulder back and pushing away the nerves and anxiety that's risen to the surface. I put it back where it belongs—in a spot I won't touch until I'm completely alone.
Yuan's eyes narrow. "Well, Eden, you certainly have guts, breaking into a castle and running from the Papal Knights for Martel knows how long, before bursting into a meeting completely uninvited."
My face heats up in embarrassment, and I duck my head down. He continues, saying, "But tell me; how is it that you know of this meeting? Where it is being held?"
My mind blanks then. I scramble for an answer, wracking my brains. Crap, crap, what the hell do I say — the only reason I know in the first place is because of the game; Sheena was so tight lipped about everything that there's no real way I could've figured out where she was going.
"That would be my fault," Sheena starts, and I snap my head up in surprise. "I found her while on my way here, and I guess I said too much when with her." From the corner of her eye she sends me a glare, and I feel a shiver run up my spine.
There's a very good chance that, after this meeting is said and done, she'll dislike me. If I get permission to be a part of the mission, that makes it a lot more difficult; it would hurt. A lot.
Yuan's eyebrows raise up. "Did you, now?" His calm facade begins to twist, until he has a small smirk on his face. "Well, isn't that interesting." He then turns back to me, setting me with a cold stare. "Tell me — why is it you think you are qualified enough to accompany Sheena on this mission; a mission you know absolutely nothing about?"
I blink, feeling practically every pair of eyes focus in on me. "Uh … well," I frown, then slowly say, "I know that I'm not … p-probably not qualified, at least in the same sense Sheena is. But—" I swallow thickly, before stating, "I'm not completely—completely useless. I can … I can do stuff. S-Stuff that might help."
"And what makes you think I need the help of a weak little human like you?"
My face heats up again, in embarrassment and anger. I clench my hand into a fist, sucking in a breath to calm myself. "Nothing," I finally say slowly. "I know you don't need someone weak like me. But ... " I grimace, before forcing out the last part of my sentence, "like I said. I'm … not completely use-useless to you."
A silence falls, in which I squirm awkwardly as everyone focuses in on me and makes me want to disappear. I'm about to say something else, when Yuan shrugs with a covert smirk on his face, directed at the Renegade to his left. The Renegade looks back at him in confusion.
"What can you do?"
The Renegade, this time. I squirm, feeling more than uncomfortable now that I'm being questioned by another person. "I —" Without realizing it, I dig my fingernails into the skin that the stone is attached to. A hot, white pain strikes me, like my skin is being yanked off, and I have to pinch myself to avoid making any sound from it. What can I do, really? None of my strengths—not that I have many—would help out. All my weaknesses would.
So, I lie.
"Stealth," I decide, doing my best to keep my voice steady and firm. "And … I—I know how to act. As in; a persona," I clarify. "Or … becoming a person w-who I'm not."
It's only a half-truth. I can pull of fake emotions and tears, and I can push away my emotions for a period of time if needed. But because of how nervous I get when I tell lies, it's never been easy.
Hopefully, though, this lie isn't seen through. A sickening silence falls as six eyes scrutinize me, and I begin to worry that it was seen through.
"Really now?" Yuan crosses his arms. I nod quickly, my mind whirling for something — anything that I can use, anything I can think of that could convince him.
"I, um," I stutter, swallowing. "After … my parents died, it was hard." I struggle for words, trying to put together something that would work in my favor but not contradict what I told Sheena. "I-I was young, and different. So … as much as I hate it, I had to lie and fake my way through a lot of things." I hesitate, before finishing it off with, " … I had to manipulate a-a lot of people to survive."
I allow some of my anxiety to come forth. I know the effect this lie is going to have. More than likely, Sheena is going to think I played her; think that I was manipulating and lying the entire time I was with her. And, really, that thought hurts; but in a way, it's true.
I did lie to survive. I did manipulate her, or at least her emotions, in an attempt to get information or get off a topic that I couldn't dare to breach.
I advert my eyes and chew on my bottom lip. If Yuan thinks I will be able to deceive the Chosen, or really anyone in her group, then just maybe he'll agree. If he thinks I could be useful then there's a high chance he'll say yes.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, there's an answer. "Fine then." Yuan turns to the King, and a wave of relief passes through me. "It seems the assassination of Sylvarant's Chosen will no longer be a solo mission."
Sheena gasps. "Wait, assassinate? You want me to kill someone?" There's disbelieve in her voice and it reminds me to look surprised. I can't appear to already know this information. It'd be too hard to explain. Act like you've never know—act like all you've known is Tethe'alla.
Yuan looks at her with raised brows. "Yes. As I explained, Sylvarant's Chosen is very likely to complete the Journey of Regeneration. If she succeeds, Tethe'alla will no longer be the prosperous world."
I drown out the voices around me, steadying myself and easing away the tenseness in my shoulders. Think of the positive, don't think of what could go wrong; don't think about Sylvarant, Tethe'alla, Earth …
Don't think about any of it.
I'm forced to halt my thoughts as Sheena nudges my shoulder lightly. I realize Zelos is right beside her — had they been talking and resist the urge to wince. Hopefully they didn't say anything to me.
"We're leaving now." She doesn't sound happy or friendly like she had when we parted ways with at the market, and I already know she's angry. Dread pools in my stomach and I look away, unable to look at the older girl.
The Renegades quickly begin to lead us out of the castle with strange urgency. There isn't any time to even speak to anyone else, because we've already been lead out of the room before we have the chance. Zelos stays in the room as we're brought out, unable to say anything else — if he had even said anything in the first place — before we're gone, staring at the two of us with an uncharacteristically serious look. Quickly we're whisked away to the outskirts of Meltokio by the Renegades, though not before Sheena starts on me.
"What the hell was that!?" She snaps, turning on me. I step back, holding my hands up defensively. "Where did you even get the idea that you could—you could just do something like this?!"
"I—" I fumble with my hands, blinking rapidly. Tears are threatening to form; being yelled at is pulling too many suppressed emotions to the surface. I bite down on my lip and force the tears down, trying to reign in my emotions before they all burst. "I'm sorry … I just—I didn't want to be alone."
Sheena's glare softens slightly, but it's still there and it's still obvious she's upset. "How did you even figure out I was going to the castle, anyways? Or where we'd be meeting?"
"Who else would be giving a mission?" I ask softly, my voice shaking. "I-I just—I ran. I searched, until I found a room that was guarded. And guarded means im-important."
She presses a hand against her forehead, a grimace crossing her face. "Do you know how much trouble you could've gotten in?"
A tremble makes its way through my body and mutely I nod my head. At the very least, arrested. At the most, executed. Though I doubt the execution part, because … well, I'm human and appear to be from Mizuho. I doubt the King wants to lose whatever relationship the rest of Tethe'alla and Mizuho have.
Still, I would've gotten in a lot of trouble if I'd failed.
Noticing the expression on my face, Sheena doesn't go into details. "You got really lucky, Eden," she says evenly, before continuing after the renegade waiting for us.
I rub at my neck, feeling the stone. At some point, I need to figure out what it is. But … I can worry about that later. Right now, the Renegades are what I have to focus on, as well as Sheena, and … the upcoming story that's going to unfold.
I make sure and trail after the departing group before I can get separated, and as we're flying away on the Rheairds, seated behind a Renegade, I can't help but feel a sickening twist in my stomach as I stare down the scenery.
There's no way out anymore; my fate has been sealed.
Now I just have to stay alive until the worlds are saved.
It takes a little less than two days to reach Flanoir from Meltokio, arriving right before dusk, though most of that time I spent internally panicking. I'm not afraid of heights, so to say, but I'm absolutely terrified of the ocean, and we spent most of our traveling time going across the ocean.
Every time that the Rheaird that the Renegade soldier was driving (flying?) would sputter a bit, my stomach lurched painfully and I had to grip onto the Renegade tighter. He grunted the first few times, but after stopped caring very much. The Rheairds actually aren't that fast in terms of speed; maybe a hundred and twenty one kilometers an hour, possibly less. The last hour or so when we began to hone in on Flanoir's continent was horrifically cold, and when we finally were inside the Renegade base I had rubbed my arms vigorously trying to warm them up. The base has heating, thankfully, so it only took a few minutes before the cold was washed away.
Sheena and I stand in Yuan's office as he flips through a folder behind his desk. I haven't said anything to Sheena since we left; both because I'm unsure what to say and because I don't want to inadvertently invoke her wrath on me. She's very obviously still upset over the situation.
Eventually I'll have to get over that, but until that time comes I'll just stay silent. Give her as much time to cool down as possible, because the longer I draw it out, the more likely she is to forgive me.
"Sheena Fujibayashi," Yuan starts, not looking up from the file, "and Eden ... what is your last name?"
On instinct I go to say 'Yang', but manage to stop myself before I do so. Yang is a Chinese name, not a Japanese one; I think to myself, struggling for a name.
"Ashi … da." I say, the name feeling foreign on my tongue. "Eden Ashida."
If he noticed my hesitation, he doesn't mention it. Yuan jots something down on a paper before finally looking up at us. His eyes are cold and calculating as he looks over both of us. I repress a shiver, feeling uneasy under his gaze. Yuan is just so ... intimidating in real life. The game with its chibi graphics didn't make him intimidating in the least.
"This mission is of utmost importance," Yuan doesn't waste anytime, jumping right into mission information. "Failure could very well lead to the decline of this world."
I shuffle in place.
"So, it is extremely important that any doubts or hesitations you have coming in disappear," Yuan crosses his arms over his chest, continuing with, "meaning any fear of killing a human needs to be thrown out. We cannot risk failure simply because either of you lack the nerve to do it."
I flinch at the harsh words; Yuan isn't sugarcoating them. I glance at Sheena and notice that she seems anxious. Though her face is composed, her body language reads otherwise.
Will this be her first time killing anyone? She may be a ninja, but when Yuan told us the details of the mission she appeared to be distressed to some degree.
Yuan flips through the folder, pulling out a single sheet of paper. He holds it out, and I hurry over and take it from him, returning next to Sheena. It's a typed up report on Sylvarant's Chosen ... on Colette.
A shiver runs down my spine as I skim the page. Height, weight, eye colour, hair colour ... even the tone of her voice and the shape of her face are noted here. How did they manage to get all this information?
I hold the page out for Sheena to take, and she does. Yuan waits until we've both glimpsed over it before he speaks again. "Sylvarant's Chosen, Colette Brunel, has been reported to be traveling with two other companions." I blink. Only two; so Lloyd hasn't been captured yet by the Renegades, meaning that the oracle — for sure — and burning of Iselia — may have — already happened. "One of the two is a hired mercenary, so take caution when approaching."
I shiver at the thought of Kratos. If Yuan is this intimidating, I'm sure that Kratos will be just as bad; not to mention, his alliances are with Cruxis. He's dead set on getting Colette to the Tower of Salvation and using her as Martel's vessel, so anyone in the way of that …
I shiver again. I'll have to be especially careful around that man.
"The other companion is said to be a elven school teacher. If necessary, it shouldn't prove too difficult to dispose of her."
His words are cold and I keep my eyes fixed on the desk. First, he orders the assassination of a sixteen year old girl, and then her companion, as well. Then again, it isn't all too surprising; he was willing to kill Kratos, his companion and friend, without a second thought—so why would it be any different for people he has no personal ties to?
Sheena seems unnerved by it as well, seeing as her composure crumbles a bit. I zone out for the rest of the briefing, not wanting to hear anything else. My eyes wander the room, taking note of the plain furnishing and bland wallpaper of the room.
I tune back into the lecture just to hear Yuan mention something about testing before we depart for Sylvarant. My attention perks up at that — does he mean physical testing? I turn my head towards Sheena, noting the lack of an exsphere.
'Ah ... that's right,' I realize. 'Sheena got her exsphere from the Renegades.'
Yuan sends us off after mentioning that we'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. As the doors slide open, the guards stiffen from their slumped posture. When it slides closed behind us, the shorter of the two says, "Your evaluation will be in just a few minutes, so follow after us."
The two Renegades begin walking off, so we follow after them. I look around at the base as we walk. Unlike Meltokio, the base is just like how the game portrayed it. Bland and cold.
While we're walking, I slip a glance at Sheena. She's composed herself again, her shoulders set straight and posture perfect; I instinctively stand up a bit straighter as well. "Um …" I fumble with my words, nerves creeping up on me. She probably hates me, now, if our short conversation after the initial meeting is anything to go by. "What d-do you think that we're going to be eval—evaluated on?"
Sheena takes a moment before she shrugs. "I'm guessing just physical testing to make sure we're healthy."
I nod. The same conclusion I came to.
The conversation goes dead after that, though, and I bite the inside of my cheek. We walk the halls for probably four minutes until stopped in front of a pair of doors. The same Renegade who spoke earlier turns to look at me, while the taller Renegade looks over at Sheena. "You," He points at me, "will go through here." He motions at the door closest to the wall. "While you," He addresses Sheena, "will go through here." The middle door.
It swings open automatically when I step forward, and once I'm inside it shuts with a hissing sound. I turn around, frowning lightly before looking forward. The room is large and spacious, with pretty much all the equipment you would see at a doctor's office and then some. In the center there is an examination table, with machinery I've never seen hooked up to a wall socket and another plug, which, much to my shock, leads to a large monitor. As in, a computer monitor, except ... much bigger, and much more complex looking.
There's no keyboard plugged in, I note, as I make my way to the center and slide up onto the examination table. As I sit down my head pulsates, causing me to wince and bring my hand up to the spot.
For what feels like an eternity I wait here, changing my position constantly and messing with the rough material of the examination table. My headache only grows worse with each passing second, until it's practically a migraine. I blink a few times, rubbing my hands over the spot that hurts in an attempt to soothe it. It doesn't do anything, but I continue anyways.
Still empty. Where's the Renegade at? If it's an examination, then someone else needs to be in here; I can't do my own examination. I don't even know what they're examining.
I look up at the machine looming overhead —
'Stay still, it won't hurt a bit.'
It's strange looking. I can't compare it to anything I've ever seen before, that's how odd it is —
'I'm putting the needle in now, make sure you don't move.'
I realize that two large ... lights, I guess, hang overhead, pointed directly at the examining table I'm sitting on, similar to the ones that are used in operating rooms. They're turned off currently.
The light burns down, pure white, nothingness; blinding and burning against my skin —
I grunt, pressing my hand against my eye this time. The headache has begun spreading, further down and behind my eyelids. I cease my examination of the room for now, shutting my eyes and massaging them with my fingers.
An excruciating pain so hot that it rips at my skin begins to eat at it, burying itself in the hollow space left behind by the torn flesh. Absorbing and devouring the muscles and veins that it touches, and traveling further and further —
"Sorry for the wait,"
I look up at the voice. A young woman, dressed in a nurse uniform resembling the standard Renegade uniform closes another door behind her. She holds a clipboard in one hand, and a small box in the other. I shake my head, ignoring the splitting pain that it sends through my skull.
"It's alright."
She makes her way over, placing the box down on a medical stand. I notice the packaged items beside it; a needle, a vial of dark green liquid, and at least eight small packages of what look like gauze pads. She pulls the drawer underneath out, removing a clear case and placing it on the same tray. Turning to me she says,"I'm Eira, I'll be your examiner." I notice she has a slight accent, sounding almost Norwegian.
Eira motions for me to stand up, and remove my shoes, and then leads me over to a scale and measuring post. She slides the wooden piece down the post, until it rests at my head, and jots down the number on her clipboard. Next, after ordering me to strip down to my undergarments — which, begrudgingly, I do — she weighs me, and as she does so I look over at the number that the post is secured at — 152 centimeters. She gives me a moment to put my clothes back on.
I squirm awkwardly as she performs some other small tests; testing my coordination, my balance, and other basic tests that you would usually receive at an annual checkup. As she's doing them, though, I can't help the extreme confusion settling in. What's the point of doing these tests? It's not like they're going to receive any mind blowing information from it, other than my less than perfect fine motor skills.
"Hold out your right arm," Eira orders, as she unwraps one of the small packages on the tray. I do so, and she wipes the skin of my right shoulder with it — she's sterilizing the area.
She removes a needle from its package, and involuntarily I shiver. I hate needles. No, not just hate — I'm downright terrified of them. My fear goes so far that I willingly subjected myself to several severe flu and colds that could've been prevented just by getting the flu shot. I also had managed to push back shots that I should've gotten five years ago until just last month, and the only reason I had gotten them at that point was because my parents had threatened me about it.
She fills the needle up with the green fluid in the vial, and I bite back a whimper, feeling terribly nauseous all of a sudden. When she turns around, my arm is gripped in Eira's unwavering, tight grip. I push back the searing panic. Gotta do this, gotta bear through this don't freak out, don't freakout don'tfreakout —
I manage to resist the overwhelming urge to yank away, not only by sheer willpower, but because of my inability to escape. Breathe, I just have to breathe. There's nothing there, it isn't there—it'll be alright. There's nothing to fear.
There's a pinch as the needle goes in and I flinch, my teeth grinding together as I clench my jaw tightly.
Once the needle is empty she removes it and wraps the area with a small cotton ball held down by gauze wrapping. I curl forward and rest my head on my knees, counting my breaths and putting my emotions back into place. By the time I've regained my composure enough that I'm sure I won't end up making a fool of myself, Eira has another one of the wipes.
Before I can say anything she has my arm in her hold again and is cleaning the area of my inner elbow. Then a strap is wrapped around my upper arm, above the area, tight enough that my hand feels slightly tingly.
A ball is placed into my palm and I notice another needle, connected to a little machine with glass tubes lining the sides. Eira pulls the sliding table over to me, placing my arm down on it and connecting the strap to a thing on the table before saying, "Squeeze the ball until I say to stop."
That is as much of a warning that I get before the needle is inserted into the vein running through the area. Instinctively I jerk but the object wrapped around my arm keeps it from moving. I watch in morbid fascination as the needle draws the blood out, carrying it via the tubes to the machine. Slowly, the four glass vials begin to fill until they're all filled. When that happens Eira removes the needle and, after placing another cotton ball and wrap onto the area like she had with the shot, removing the strap on my arm.
Feeling more uneasy then I thought possible during something as simple as an examination, I watch Eira check the machine and remove the vials from it. After she has placed them into another container, she comes back and unwraps yet another pad.
"Which hand is your dominant hand?" She questions. I blink.
"Um—m-my left," I reply. With a quiet hum she walks around the examination table, motioning for me to remove the glove on that hand. I do so, and she takes my left hand in her left hand and wipes the skin like she had before. She doesn't look up as she speaks.
"Next I'll be placing an Exsphere — an item that will significantly improve your resilience and stamina — onto you." She finishes and puts my hand down. "According to Lord Yuan, you do not have one yet; correct?"
I shake my head, but something nags at the back of my mind. I do my best to ignore it.
She opens up the small box and takes out the Exsphere. It is a regular blue colour, nothing special. Beside it is what I assume to be a key crest.
"This may feel a bit odd, just try to ignore it," Eira warns me before pressing the stone onto my skin. Immediately it latches onto my hand, and I jump as a sudden surge of energy pushes through my body.
During the initial contact it feels almost like my skin is being sucked into the Exsphere but, thankfully, the feeling disappears after a few seconds. Eira taps at the stone to make sure it's firmly attached before sliding the key cresh over it.
"This key crest will only work with your Exsphere. You may remove it and reattach it wherever you would like, don't worry about removing the band." I nod slowly, prodding at the thing. When it doesn't do anything, I slip my glove back on, trying to ignore the nagging. It's only grown stronger now that I've got the Exsphere on.
As I prod at the stone through my glove, Eira walks over to the monitor from earlier with her clipboard and the glass vials in hand. I watch as the machine comes to life and a keyboard — a translucent floating keyboard — appears in the air in front of her. Eira taps in a code of some sort and the screen changes from the dark blue start up colour to a series of files.
With the clipboard beside her she copies down the information she had written down from the tests. For probably a minute the room is silent with only the sound of her fingers tapping against the keys to fill the air and the occasional ping when Eira slides her finger across the screen and change the file she's typing in.
I'm rubbing the area that the blood was drawn from when I hear a quiet buzzing sound. I watch as Eira places the vile case into a stand that came out of the table and shuts it. The stand disappears back into the table and the area it came out of folds back over to cover the hole.
"That will be all we need from you," Eira tells me, after she's finished with inputting the data and vials. "I will lead you to your room, where you will be staying with your companion."
I swallow dryly. I'm tempted to ask her why she needed all that information—most of it is trivial and completely useless. But then I remember Colette's file, how every single part of it was documented, and realize that they're making a profile for me.
In case I ever need to be taken down or dealt with.
'Great.'
We exit the room and the one she leads me to has two four poster beds set up, with red comforters making up the bed. Sheena isn't here yet.
"Someone will bring you and your companion food; the room will not be locked, but do not leave unless necessary." With that Eira exits, the door sliding closed behind her, and I'm left by myself.
There's a mirror in the corner of the room, and I hesitate. I've been wondering, for awhile, what exactly is on my neck; looking at the Exsphere on my hand, and feeling it, I've come to a guess as to what it is.
But I can't just assume things. I need to see it myself.
Still … Sheena could come in at any moment and I don't want to explain why I have to Exspheres. Or, in the case that it isn't an Exsphere, explain what it is exactly.
But this could be my only chance.
I decide, in the end, to check; to do it quickly. I sit down in front of it, crossing my legs and moving my hair away from my neck. I ignore the cold tile pressing into my legs as I turn my head and look.
The mirror confirms it—and suddenly, I feel sick.
It takes more effort than it should for me to keep from panicking, but I at least have the sense to let my hair fall back into place and cover it up. I press my hand against it and feel it pulsate, which only makes me feel worse.
I shouldn't have an Exsphere already—I've been on Earth. I've been with my family up until days ago, so—
Have you really?
I freeze at that thought. There are no Exspheres on Earth and even if they were, they'd be useless. Meaning that, at some point, I left Earth and was given an Exsphere, except I—don't—remember.
I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and staring at my reflection. Two Exspheres on one body can't be good; who knows what it's doing to my body. But Exspheres increase performance and make the user stronger and more resilient.
Not to mention, James warned me not to remove it. The closest spot to my brain … that's what he'd said when I asked about the placement.
So I leave it, for the time being. If I'm going to Sylvarant, then I can't let myself be weak. There's no way for me to know how much help the first Exsphere is giving me, but I can't take the risk of removing it and being too weak to survive.
I let my eyes slip shut. I'm tired. Sheena hasn't returned yet.
I remove my shoes, crawling onto one of the beds and underneath the covers. The silence is stifling and feeds into my fears, into the emotions hiding in the back of my mind—and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Sheena will be here soon.
I can't let her see me fall apart.
So I force them down, again, ignoring how hard it's become. Too many strong, negative emotions at once and not enough time to let them roam free.
Now isn't the time. Later, yes; but not now.
Eventually the door opens again, but I don't open my eyes. Sheena asks if I'm awake, and I say nothing.
I just lay.
I'm up early the next day; Sheena is still asleep. When I approach the door, it doesn't open. I don't try to open it; it's probably locked from the other side.
I settle back down on the bed, staring up at the top of the bed frame. It's surprising that the furnishing is so … nice. Four poster beds, a mirror, plants, and a carpet beneath the bed? It seems a bit much.
Still, I'm in no position to question it, and I don't plan on ever asking the reasons.
Sheena wakes up awhile later, blinking a few times, and I simply watch her for a second before turning away again. She yawns. I lay down on my side and stare at the wall.
We don't say anything for awhile. I'm too afraid; I've ruined any chance of friendship with Sheena, all because I needed to get to Sylvarant. Traveling will be difficult, but … it's necessary. I have to get home. My family must be worried sick.
I hope they're all alright.
"… You're awake," Sheena notes. "You don't have to pretend."
"I'm not," I mumble back. "I'm just l-laying down."
My stutter, which had practically dissolved away when around Sheena, has returned with a vengeance; for good reason, too. It doesn't make it any less pathetic, though.
I owe her an apology.
There's no clock in the room; I have no way of gauging how much time passes as I fight myself, my hands clenching and unclenching periodically as I struggle. I need to apologize but—but she hates me now. It hurts, and I know she won't accept my apology.
"I …" I trail off, nerves taking over and ripping away my breath. I have to take a moment to compose myself again. "I … wanted to apologize. For what happened at the castle, a-and all."
Sheena doesn't respond and I feel my chest tighten in embarrassment and despair. Despite accepting the fact that I'd ruined our relationship, of course I still want for her to forgive me—Sheena is kind. She helped me. She saved me, really.
I owe her, and I repaid her with lies.
"It's … it's alright," she finally responds, and I squeeze my hands together, curling my legs closer to me. "I mean, I won't lie—I'm still annoyed about the whole situation. But," she starts, and I wince, "it isn't really that big of a deal."
"More than anything, I'm just confused," she admits, and I blink. "I didn't tell you … well, much of anything about the mission."
I roll so I'm facing her. "You … said you had a meeting," I reply. "And also, you said "top secret" wh-when I asked about it. So, I just guessed," I mumble the last part. "I-I know it was risky—I know I could've gotten in a lot of trouble. But … I just—I-I didn't want to be alone."
My voice cracks at the end. Alone in Meltokio would've been the worst possible outcome. No way out, nowhere to stay, nothing to do but sit on my hands and wait, and hope for the best. I would've been homeless on top of it all.
"… I understand," Sheena finally says, after a long silence. "You must've been alone for awhile after your parents died, right? Ozette is pretty far away from Meltokio."
I nod mutely. "But this mission … it's going to be dangerous." Sheena's voice becomes a bit harder. "Do you even know how to fight?"
"I—no," I admit. "I've learned a—some stuff. But not much." I glance at the sword propped up against the wall. "And … I-I've never touched a sword f-for real combat."
Martial arts classes only do so much; what I learned on Earth won't keep me safe here.
I have to take the risk.
"How do you fight?" I ask, a bit hesitantly. "D-Do you use—um, a-a knife?"
Sheena shakes her head. "I use martial arts and seals," she replies. "It was taught to me by the chief when I was a child."
Bingo.
"W-Will you teach me, then?" I ask suddenly, sitting up on the bed. "It—it's all that I really—really can do." I stumble over my words, speaking too quickly and having to repeat myself too many times. "If I learned from you, t-then—then you could teach me a-as we go. I'll be a good student!"
My voice takes a tone of desperation near the end. I need Sheena's help; if I don't have some kind of teacher for any kind of combat, then I'll struggle in Sylvarant. I'll be dead weight. I might literally become dead weight.
I have to figure out the sword part on my own, so it'd be really, really good to have at least someone to teach me something properly.
Sheena thinks over it for a bit, before she reluctantly nods. "Alright," she agrees. "I'll teach you, then. But—" I look up at that, "—it won't be easy."
"I-I know, I know." I breathe out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sheena."
We don't have much more time to talk before the door slides open. I pull my boots on quickly as the Regnegade enters the room, and Sheena follows suit after the soldier tells us we'll be heading to see Yuan.
The walk in a bit long, and soon I forget about my worries of the base and become bored by the cold walls around me. I wonder how far into the game we are now ... have Lloyd and Genis arrived in Triet yet? Has Lloyd been captured yet?
A bit later we stop in front of a door and the Renegade presses his finger to a button on a small intercom. "Lord Yuan, I've brought two."
Yuan doesn't reply but the door clicks and then swings open for us. We're escorted inside by the Renegade who nods at Yuan before promptly leaving. We get a short explanation about the Rheairds, the interdimensional travel, and a few other things before we're off—and I don't bother to remember the route we take to the hanger.
