If anyone's worrying about their request(s), don't worry, they'll be in my next update. They're nearly done after all -and about time, too.
This was an idea for a scene in Ashes of this World, but I had no idea where to put it; thus it's going in here as a stand-alone extra.
Well, I'm going to make one or two references to this in Ashes of this World, so I decided to update it. I needed an excuse to re-organize this collection of one-shots (or two-shots, or three-shots, whatever) too.
Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia (or its sequel) and the characters that appear in the game. I do not earn any money from this story. Unbeta'd.
Flora put down the now empty glass on the table with a hurtful sigh. The chair scraped a little against the floor as she redirected herself better, then she poured herself another glass of wine.
Both his husband and her nephew had left the house for the day. Alba would be running patrols around the dried up lake to discover any sign of foul play, her nephew would be…Probably roaming around aimlessly, avoiding as many people as possible.
She had the whole house for herself, but she didn't know what to do with it. The floor and walls were clean, there weren't dishes to be done and the laundry was already hanging outside.
For a woman like her, that wouldn't prevent her from finding something to do immediately. But she would have to step out of her house and witness Luin, the City of Water, without its famed lake and primary resource.
Luin's people and her husband blamed her nephew for it. Admittedly, the idea that a cripplingly shy 16 years old who backs off when he's shouted at could be behind the odd phenomenon was stupid at best and completely insulting to anyone's intelligence at worst. But that wasn't the only reason her nephew was a persona non grata in his new -and Flora flinched at this, because she was from Palmacosta and her older sister had died there- hometown.
No, her nephew just had to hate Lloyd the Hero for no reason.
She forgone her handkerchief and cleaned her mouth with the sleeve of the dress. It didn't matter. What did matter was making sure she didn't empty the bottle in front of her.
Flora didn't like drinking that much. People did and said all the sort of idiotic things while under the influence of alcohol. But she just didn't know what to do to pass the day.
How did her nephew deal with it?
She stopped herself from pouring even more wine in the glass. When did she empty it? Was it five minutes ago, or just a bunch of seconds ago -another glass of wine she had drunk mechanically, unconsciously?
Ah yes, her nephew. What was Flora supposed to do with him? Alba had washed his hands clear of him a week after meeting his nephew for the first time.
He had come and the lake had dried up. She had already answered herself on that one -incredible bad timing. Just because Raine Sage's younger brother could drop meteors at the tender age of 12 years old -so she had heard, she didn't remember where or when- didn't mean her nephew could replicate such feats at 16.
He hated Lloyd the Hero. Now that left her baffled. She could understand him at the beginning -Lloyd the Hero had attacked and torched Palmacosta! Lloyd the Hero had killed her older sister!
Except it hadn't been Lloyd the Hero. The real Lloyd the Hero had been at Asgard, taking care of the accident caused by those snobbish Tethe'Allan nobles. Pah, those bastards. They had also come to Luin and insinuated she, Flora, was a whore they could buy with a bunch of Gald!
Whoever this fake Lloyd was, everyone in Luin hated him for trying to frame their Hero. Everything should have settled down after receiving an official message from the Church of Martel.
Yet her nephew had kept on hating Lloyd the Hero, not the impostor. The reasons she wasn't aware of behind his hatred for such a beloved figure worried her. Had he been deeply traumatized by the Blood Purge to the point of being unable to see reason?
He couldn't be a true supporter of the Vanguard. He didn't have the backbone for that.
"If only you were still here with me..." Flora muttered as she glanced at an old picture of her sister's marriage. She had found it in a drawer she had pushed into her nephew's room and then promptly forgot about.
Her parents had adored the picture. How could they not, the artist had perfectly portrayed her older sister with her husband on the happiest day of their life, down to the smallest detail of their features and clothes. If she didn't know her sister was dead and buried, Flora would believe Lana was looking straight at her.
But with that old murmurs in the back of her mind came back to life. Flora hadn't liked Reysol, he had always struck her as weird, weak-willed and unable to bear her sister's temper. Yes, her nephew was all his father, down to his hair and face. She couldn't help but loathe him a little for not being more similar to Lana -he had her eyes, but they looked nothing like hers-, though she wanted to tell herself it was as irrational as blaming him for drying the lake.
...Down to his hair and face...
Flora blinked. What was that...? She took the picture closer to her eyes. Blond hair and green eyes, check.
The rest, however, didn't check.
She knew the picture in her hand had virtually no flaw. She had known Lana for so long her face and figure never faded from her mind, and the Lana in the picture was identical to her sister.
So the problem wasn't the picture.
Flora had written off her nephew as a mini clone of his father for so long it was natural she hadn't noticed it earlier. Apparently, the comparisons between the two hold up only when she took their personalities in consideration.
However, while Reysol was blond, the actual shade of blond was wrong. Reysol's hair -short, well tamed, nothing like the mild case of permanent bed-head of her nephew- looked more like sand. Her nephew sported such a light shade that it tended to be nearly blinding under the sun.
And the features were all wrong, her nephew managed to be even more feminine while having none of the flawed grace of her sister or the flat -common, unable to stand out in a crowd- face of Reysol.
The more Flora examined the picture, the more differences she found between her nephew and his parents. Or his supposed parents, she wasn't sure anymore. She downed yet another glass of wine.
She remembered clearly the day she had seen her nephew for the first time. He was lost in Luin, asking everyone if they knew uncle Alba and aunt Flora. He was so meek and shy, disgustingly similar to Reysol -never mind the fact her sister always told him Reysol was a good man and that was the most important characteristic in a person- she hadn't thought twice and brought him home with her.
She punched the table. How naive of her! Taking a complete stranger home without even asking for information first! Any idiot could go to Palmacosta and lift the names of the first married couple he found.
Flora froze, ice filling her veins.
If Emil wasn't her nephew, then who was he...?
"A-aunt Flora...?"
Said woman winced in the chair and turned around. Her ne- Emil was standing at the door with a bruise adorning his right cheek and gulping down whatever words he had thought. His eyes were immediately fixed on the empty bottle on the table and the glass in her hand.
"A-am I disturbing-"
"How dare you."
Flora got up -and Emil immediately stepped backwards. Ah, there was fear in his eyes. Such pure green eyes that she could name some people who would kill for them. Lana surely didn't have those eyes.
"How dare you!"
She absentmindedly noticed she was towering over the pitiful form of Emil. The pathetic boy was all but cowering in front of her, only because the railing behind him didn't allow him to get any further away from her.
"A-aunt Flora..."
"Don't call me that!" she screamed this time, getting the attention of the crowd outside the inn on her. "You little lying...! You're not Lana's son! You're not my nephew! Get out of my house!"
Startled, Emil didn't even move to dodge her punch. It nearly sent him over the railing and on the street below, but thankfully he didn't tip over. Instead, blood was now flowing freely from his nose and on the wood.
"Get out!" Flora screeched again, her hand grasping the broom resting outside on the gallery. "GET OUT!"
This time, Emil didn't wait for her reaction. He sped down the stairs, nearly tripping and smashing his face on a wall, and ran away before the people around could gang on him.
Flora's high shrills followed him all the way out of Luin.
Rumours spread fast after that event.
Suddenly, it was like all Luin had been around Alba and Flora's house when she kicked Emil out, shouting and screeching he wasn't her sister's son. It was quickly found she had drunk a lot, but the damage had been already done.
Simply being in Luin became a torture. People whispered cruel things when they happened to see him or contributed to make his life worse when he wasn't around to hear them. Even the few merchants coming from outside the city were sizing him up with disapproval.
Bullies never left him alone -and were now waving blades and kitchen knives with the approval of those passers-by who didn't disregard what was going on under their nose- and now someone had been throwing rocks at his window, all of them carrying threats on his person.
And while his dear uncle had preferred to stay as far away as possible from him, now he was actively looking for Emil to "make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, the ungrateful vermin". Alba hadn't started beating him -he would just manhandle him from time to time-, but the look in his eyes promised pain.
Flora…Flora just ignored him. She made her best to avoid even looking in his general direction.
This was why Emil had taken to disobeying Alba and going out of Luin for most of the day. Meals with his relatives grew sparse as the blond boy learned to catch and pick his own food and cook it without burning a forest or giving away signs of his presence to travellers and patrols.
It didn't hurt that monsters and animals didn't actively try to harm him. On the contrary, they would join his lunches and dinners and even warn him whenever some humans arrived close to his place. Emil couldn't pinpoint when it started, but with time the monsters' feels and messages began to resonate clearly in his mind.
Lucretia, a bear he had found hanging around the dried up lake a few days before, was sniffing the bucket filled with water to the brim he had offered her. Emil patted her head, smiling. He could feel her radiating contentment as she started drinking. No one from Luin would go to the lake for water now, so the boy would usually take refuge there.
If only humans were a little more similar to those they call monsters and animals. But no, it didn't matter what he did. They treated him as a servant at best and an enemy to stamp out at worst.
Emil curled up on the spot, pressing his face on his knees. Lucretia whined a little and nuzzled his mop of blond hair, but he didn't shift position.
Why was he so sad about it? Humans were impossible to treat after all, he shouldn't be expecting anything positive from them. Or from half-elves, as he sometimes heard like a whisper in his ear. Just look at the Tethe'Allans, all high and haughty and snooty because their world hadn't been ravaged like the Sylvaranti's. They needed no reason to antagonize everyone else and to destroy everything in their path, even on a simple whim.
"I hate them..." Emil mumbled. "I hate them all..."
Red eyes flashed in the back of his mind.
Flora had really drunk a lot, I just avoided mentioning any single time she took a shot. Accordingly, her reasoning may appear farfetched and incredibly rushed and it probably is.
Reysol is actually blond and Lana is a brunette with green eyes. I took some freedom with their features though and how much Emil really resembles them. Besides, Alba and Flora did take Emil in simply because he said he was their nephew, they had never seen Lana's son before in canon.
That's all for now. See you on the next update!
