No time for pancakes, it's Oracle time!
A/N: Hi everyone! Keko here. I've got a passion for writing fiction and have only recently ventured into the realm of fanfiction after my renewed obsession with Tales of Symphonia when it was released on the Ps3.
Before we get started with the story, here are three interesting and yet spoiler-free points:
1. While this story is of course based on the story of the game, there are many core differences. I love plot twists and you can definitely expect plenty of those. Actually, the more you anticipate the usual plot twists, the better! *Evil grin*
2. The combined character aspect in this story is not something that goes unexplained.
3. Last but not least, this is in the mystery section for a reason. If chapters are skipped, there is a chance you will miss vital clues! Just saying! =3 I try to avoid "filler" for the sake of filler.
Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Symphonia, its original plot, characters or locations. I do take credit for the original themes and situations contained within the plot of this story though.
No time for pancakes. It's Oracle time!
"Colloyd Bruving," called an impatient voice. There was silence.
A red-clad dual wielder fluttered his eyes open the second time his name was called. He started back, dropping the two buckets of water he had been holding as punishment to the floor and leaving a nice mess for the cleaners later. Staring into his face with one eyebrow raised and a disapproving glare in his piercing blue eyes was his teacher of the past three years.
The elven scholar grunted something under his breath and turned away from his pupil, walking back past the class and standing near the blackboard at the front. "Would someone who has been awake this lesson please answer my question so that Colloyd might understand the homework for tonight?"
The room filled with stifled laughs from other students. A pink haired elven girl in the second row of tables from the front grimaced, knowing that if nobody shot their hand up in the next five seconds that she would be easy pickings. Kraine knew she knew the answer and sometimes exploited that. You couldn't live with a teacher and not pick up a thing or two.
Right on cue, the teacher placed one hand on her shoulder and glanced down at her. "Gesea, please tell the class the answer."
"Must I, brother?" she complained, rolling her eyes. "Prediction outcome: one-hundred percent accurate."
"I apologise," Kraine replied, taking his hand off of her shoulder and deciding to answer the question himself. "The answer is that the Goddess Martel is responsible for what we now know as the Oracle. Scholars believe that to end war, Martel and her brother Mithos made a pact with an ancient summon spirit named Origin."
He pointed to the notes on the blackboard with the ruler he had picked up from somewhere in the room as he'd been pacing through the explanation. "Mithos was sacrificed and Martel became an angel. With Martel becoming an angel, the summon spirit Origin regenerated the world and Sylvarant flourished. Throughout history since then, a Chosen of Salvation has been born clutching a strange exsphere and a white light from the Temple of Martel has been seen. This is known as the Oracle and is said to be a symbol from Martel that the Chosen must once again re-flourish the world by meeting with Origin in the Tower of Salvation."
After completing his explanation, he cast a weary eye on Colloyd. The boy shrugged. "Not like I don't know all that already."
"Yes Colloyd. I am aware that you have been taught this since you were very young. However, should the Oracle strike in your or your children's lifetimes, it would be wise to keep your memory fresh." He glanced down at the boys left hand, wrapped in a bandage. Colloyd shifted, uncomfortable with his eyes on him. Kraine shrugged it off and turned back to the blackboard. "Now, as for tonight's homew-"
The wooden floorboards of their school shook and cut him off. Every single pair of eyes in the room looked toward the wall of windows on the right hand wall. As though their lesson had awoken the Goddess herself, a white beam of light now streamed out of the Temple of Martel, shortly to the east of their little village.
A tingle travelled down Kraine's spine. He looked at the Chosen boy briefly on his way toward the door of the classroom. "If that is indeed the Oracle, the Priests will know to come here and find you. I shall make the journey now to the temple."
"But-" Colloyd stopped when Kraine disappeared behind the open door of the classroom and out of the school house without so much as giving him a chance to argue. His frustrated thoughts didn't stay in place for long though. Gesea scurried toward him through the maze of school desks and overturned chairs, her eyes wide and looking kind of excited. "Col! Do you really think that could be the Oracle?"
"I dunno," he answered. "We should go and find out!"
"But Kraine said-"
"-But it's research," Colloyd cut her off quickly.
The pink haired elf shrugged her shoulders and heaved a defeated sigh. "There's no a way to stop you, so I may as well join you."
Colloyd gave her a cheesy grin and took her arm, running out of the classroom and almost tripping on the little step that had been there much longer than he himself had.
"I'm surprised we haven't bumped into the professor on the road here," Colloyd mused to his shorter friend as they made their way quickly through the field. "With all the monsters here I thought he'd be slowed down."
Gesea grimaced. "I do not think anyone could slow Kraine down. He is quite.. travelled, to say the least."
"That's right. The two of you travelled for a long time to get to Iselia, didn't you?"
Gesea looked down and said nothing in response.
"Sorry," Colloyd apologised. "I sometimes forget you guys have an invisible line that can't be crossed when talking about that."
Gesea fell quiet for a second, focusing on the task of rearranging her pigtails and avoiding his eye contact. "Maybe one day I'll tell you all about our journey." Her troubled demeanour faded and her eyes glinted with excitement as they finally stepped onto the cobblestone ground which led up a narrow stairway straight into the Temple of Martel. "In the meantime, let's focus on the start of what might be your epic journey!"
"Right!" he grinned in response. "Race ya to the top!"
"You're on!" she agreed, grinning back.
No sooner had the brown and pink haired duo reached the top of the steps, they were faced with a horror they hadn't expected. Grins from their earlier race fading, they saw several of the temple priests lying on the ground and clutching various parts of their bodies while groaning in pain.
Colloyd quickly approached the frail form of a woman he recognised, Gesea at his heels. The woman wasn't a priest; more an official go-between of the Chosen and anyone with business with the Chosen, A.K.A him. He looked on at her in horror as he knelt to check her wounds. "Phaidra! Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
The old woman opened her gentle blue eyes and smiled at Colloyd. "It's only a small wound, Chosen. I'll just need to rest for a while. Please run.. away.." Her voice croaked and she fell backward.
Colloyd looked over her again, his hands shaking. She was still breathing but there was no way that he could just leave now. He looked at Gesea with an expression he knew she would understand. As expected, she looked conflicted at the unsaid idea. After a couple of quick glances between him and Phaidra, she sighed and gave him her best courageous nod.
They stood together and faced the doorway that led into the temple. The ornate golden doors were wide open and the yells of unknown villains and priests alike could be heard. The clanking of weapons against weapons rung through the air amongst the yells. "I hope the professor is okay," Colloyd said, his resolve strengthening with the new worry. He gripped the pommel of the sword on his right. With one final nod to his short companion and on the receipt of her own nod back, the pair sprinted into the hungry mouth of the temple.
It turned out that their worries hadn't been pointless. As soon as their eyes adjusted to the dull light of the room, they saw the one and only purple and orange trimmed cloak of Professor Kraine. Surrounded by none other than the silver helmet wearing scum-of-the-world, Desians, and with his back to them, the elf hadn't even noticed their presence.
Colloyd went to call out but was muffled by the charging yell of the Desians on the professor. He quickly unsheathed his chakram and sword to assist, but no sooner did he take a single step, the charge ended as quickly as it'd started. Every Desian in all directions fell to their knees, gashes appearing on their bodies. He gaped at the professor, seeing the sword in his right hand slicked with the blood of his assailants. Blinking back his shock, he stepped toward his teacher.
Hearing the faint tapping of shoes, the auburn haired elf-teacher abruptly turned in their direction, pointing his sword. He stopped and relaxed his grip when he realised who they were. "I thought I told you two to stay at school," he said, stern disapproval in his voice. "This is no place for children."
"It's no place for a teacher either," Colloyd replied, hearing his own shock in his voice but masking his face with a grin. "But I'm not a normal child, and you're not a normal teacher."