Part 1: Embers and Ashes

ND2000. In Kimlasca shall be born one who inherits the power of Lorelei.

Sitting up in the tree, the boy turned another page in his book, the sounds of the household below all but ignored. He was lost deeply in the fonic diagram spread across the pages - a healing arte, one he rarely got to practice and had by no means mastered. Only in secret could he even look at it; when he was tested for ability with the Seventh Fonon, the results had indicated that a misuse of it could have volatile, destructive effects in his hands.

He will be a boy of royal blood with hair of red.

Luckily, there was another Seventh Fonist in the family - and Natalia had little inclination to deny her intended anything, especially when he put it in terms of wanting to help the kingdom as much as he could. And he did want to help Kimlasca, as much as he could, but that wasn't the reasoning behind wanting to learn healing artes, and any other kind of arte he got a chance to. He didn't want to be caught helpless again.

He shall be called the Light of the Sacred Flame, and he will lead Kimlasca-Lanvaldear to new prosperity.

"Luke!"

One member of the staff could always be relied upon to find him no matter where he hid, however. Luke carefully folded the diagram back into the book it was hidden in before leaning over the edge of the branch to look at the servant who had been his best friend for years.

"Guy? What is it?"

On the ground below, the blond had his hands on his hips, a gesture indicating faint disapproval. Guy couldn't actually criticize him - it would be out of place for a servant - but after ten years, Luke was more than capable of interpreting Guy's mood most of the time. The lightly teasing expression Guy was wearing indicated that it wasn't serious, at least; most likely, he was just annoyed at Luke making himself hard to find.

"You keep disappearing like that, someone's going to think you got kidnapped again," Guy teased, shaking his head slightly in exasperation. Luke frowned down at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'd think I'm a little old for them to be worried about that by now, even if I'm not of age."

"Yeah, yeah. His Grace was asking after you; Dorian General Grants is going to be arriving soon, and you're to wait for a summons to the drawing room when he gets here."

Luke folded the book under one arm before jumping down from the tree. No reason to force Guy to crane his neck looking up at him. "That's odd. Today isn't a training day."

Guy shrugged, gesturing widely with his hands. "Don't look at me. I'm just coming to find you as ordered."

"Consider me found," Luke said. He started to turn to walk in towards the manor, but as he did, the world spun, just a bit, and his head felt as though someone struck it with one of the iron beams holding up the city.

Luke... He was only dimly aware of Guy's voice echoing the one reverberating in his skull, as he fell to his knees and then onto his side, the book falling from his grasp. Fragment of my soul... Head my voice...

A dim golden light, like Seventh Fonons inside of the eyelids he had squeezed shut, and then blackness.

ND2002. The One Who Would Seize Glory shall destroy the island upon which he was born, a land by the name of Hod. War shall thereafter persist between Kimlasca and Malkuth for a full cycle of seasons.

Her heels clacked loudly on the floor of the city as she stepped down the stairs into the glowing glyph. The road was open, and she had avoided going through it for long enough. Here in the depths of the city, there was no sign of the poisonous fog that hung outside and formed the sky that she had known for most of her life, but it still felt choking, stifling.

She had a responsibility, and she couldn't fulfill it here. Her task, her brother was beyond, in the realm where the clouds in the sky were only water, where the sun shone upon the earth.

"So, the time has come." She gripped her weapon, lifted it as she began to channel the fonons that would activate the glyph. "Prepare..."

A flash of light, and she was gone.

When Luke came around, he was laid out on his bed, flat on his back. Someone had moved him while he was passed out.

It wasn't incredibly uncommon for him to black during one of the headaches, which had started after the kidnapping. They were usually rare, but had been growing more frequent lately, which was why his former restrictions of "don't leave the city" had been reduced to "don't leave the royal quarter." Even then, it was rare that he was allowed outside of the manor without an escort, even if that escort was just Guy.

Speaking of whom...

Luke sat up and glanced around, rubbing at his temple even though there was no remnants of pain from the headache. Guy was still in the room, leaning up against the sill of the window he usually used to enter and exit Luke's room without being seen.

"Feeling better?" he asked, shifting his weight back onto his feet.

"A bit," Luke muttered, as he slid his way to the edge of the bed and started to climb off.

"Typical, you were only out long enough to make me haul you here." Guy shook his head fondly. "I told the maids to keep out, but by now everyone knows you blacked out, I'm sure."

"Thanks." He knew that Guy standing up to the maids in any way was a gigantic effort - Guy's fear of women usually made him an easy target for teasing and harassment. "I suppose everyone is waiting for me already in the drawing room, huh."

"Yeah. His Grace probably isn't too happy." Guy crawled up onto the sill, preparing to leave the room by, probably, the same way he came in. "I've got to get back to work, so I'll see you later, okay?"

Luke hummed his agreement as he pulled on a slightly more formal jacket. "Don't get caught leaving." The last time that had happened, he knew Guy had gotten in a lot of trouble - technically, as servant and heir to the house, it was improper for them to have the kind of friendship they did. But Guy had been one of the only people anyone near Luke's age when he was growing up; few of the household servants had children, then or now.

"Don't worry about me!" Guy said with a laugh. He dropped out of sight below the window, but his voice came up one more time. "Everyone's busy with General Grants, so no one's going to notice me."

Luke was about to reply when there was a knock at the door, and the voice of one of the maids interrupted, still sounding concerned, as they usually were after one of his headaches. "Master Luke? If you're well enough, His Grace requests your presence in the drawing room."

Luke sighed, looking away from the window and over to the door. "Yes, I'll be there in a moment." He waited until he heard the footsteps of the maid walking away from his door before leaving the room.

The drawing room was exactly as he expected it when he entered, a bowing maid to open the door at his knock and three people seated around the dining table. At the head was his father, Duke Fabre, a stern man who showed little affection to anyone except his wife, seated to his right. Susanne was a sharp contrast to her husband; where the Duke had the fit form of retired military, Susanne was often ill, and left the house even more rarely than did her son.

An empty chair for Luke himself was at his father's left, and the next seat beyond that was filled by their guest. Dorian General Van Grants, the Commandant of the Oracle Knights that were the military arm of the Order of Lorelei, was a heavily tanned man with long, light brown hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head and a small matching beard. That day, he wore the long, formal tabard of his position, rather than the more casual training clothes he usually wore when he came to oversee Luke's swordsmanship lessons a few times a month for most of the year.

Luke entered the room and gave a polite tip of his head to the three at the table, and saw his mother's expression lighten a bit.

"Good that you were well enough to join us," Duke Fabre said, with the slight tone that indicated that his son wasn't a total disappointment. It was a tone of voice that made it hard to not slip into a scowl, which Luke knew would only earn him harsher criticism later. "Take a seat."

"Headaches again?" Van asked pleasantly as he sat down. Luke could only nod.

"Bad enough that I passed out in the garden," he said. Van was one of the few outside of the household who knew of his headaches; in addition to his high military rank, the man was also a talented Seventh Fonist, and was one of the healers who had examined him after the kidnapping, to no avail. In fact, Van was the one who had recovered a sobbing, disoriented Luke from the kidnapping, finding him in the family's own disrepaired vacation home on the southern tip of Rugnica.

"I see. And did you hear the voice again this time?"

When he was younger, Luke had made the mistake of telling people about the voice he sometimes heard during his headaches. He shook his head. "No, nothing." It was one of the few lies he told on a regular basis. "Why did you come today? It's not a usual training day."

Van seemed satisfied with the lie, most likely because Luke had been telling it to almost everyone for the last few years. "As I was saying to your parents, I will be returning to Daath tomorrow, and then travelling for an unknown length of time."

Luke knew that he had to look startled by the statement; when Van wasn't forthcoming with a further explanation, he glanced up the table at his parents instead.

"Fon Master Ion has gone missing," his father began, and Luke didn't need to hear any more than that to nod his understanding. The Fon Master was leader of the entire Order of Lorelei, and the current holder of the position was a boy even younger than Luke with precarious health. With no successor known, it was no surprise that the Commandant of the Oracle Knights would be recalled to help with the search. Most likely, all of the Oracle Knights across the planet were likewise being either recalled to Daath, the city at the center of the religion, or being sent out to search from their present posts.

"So our training is being put on hold, then," Luke surmised, looking back at Van for confirmation. He couldn't help but sound a bit disappointed; the training was one of the few physical activities he was allowed without having to sneak around behind the backs of the staff and his parents.

"I've arranged for someone to come in my stead, so that you don't miss any lessons," Van said. That didn't particularly assuage Luke's feelings; the style Van had taught him in was apparently quite unusual, and Luke had doubts as to whether there were any other teachers that could provide the level of instruction he needed. After all, he was well beyond the basics of stances and grips. Van had just begun transitioning him from simple sword blows into strike artes recently, and the artes were the backbone of the more advanced parts of the style. "And if you feel well enough, I'll train with you to your heart's content today."

Now that was more like it. In spite of the look of concern from his mother, Luke couldn't keep a small grin from forming on his face. "Of course I feel well enough. The headaches always pass quickly."

Van smiled, then looked past Luke to his parents further up the table. "Then I'll meet you in the courtyard. Duke, Milady, by your leave." That last was with a bow as Van stood up to walk towards the courtyard. Luke remained a moment, in case his parents had any further instructions for him.

"Be careful," his mother said gently. The Duke, seemingly, had already mentally dismissed his son.

Luke gathered his practice sword and other equipment from his room, not even bothering to change out of his coat into his usual training clothes; as far as he was concerned, every moment counted. Then it was out to the courtyard, where he could see Van, with a training dummy already set up, talking with Guy.

"Good afternoon, Master Luke," said the gardener, Pere, as he passed. Pere was a relative of Guy's who had taken the boy in a few years before they came to the manor, looking for work, and in spite of his age, he was practically the only gardener in the manor. Sometimes Luke would help him with the flowers, much to the annoyance of his father and the higher staff. "Be careful, there's water over the path."

"Thanks," Luke said as he nimbly jumped over the flow of water; it would dry quickly on the pavement in Baticul's bright sun, but would take much longer to dry out of his shoes if he stepped in it. Baticul's weather might have gorgeous skies most of the time, but that didn't make it any less humid.

Guy and Van looked up at him as he approached, dropping off whatever conversation they were having. Since it was a public place, Guy gave Luke exactly the right amount of a deferential bow. Luke, in turn, gave him a funny look. "What brings you out here, Guy? You don't usually show up to watch me train." They sparred, once in a while - Guy might be older, but he didn't have nearly as much time to devote to his hobbies, so their skill level was about the same - but usually there was too much work to be done around the manor for any of the servants to spend their time sitting around and watching sword training.

"Well, Van is a master swordsman - " Something about the tone seemed different, and it wasn't until later that Luke would realize what was so odd about it: Guy calling Van by name instead of title, something he normally only did with Luke himself. " - so I thought maybe I'd ask for some tips."

"Perhaps another time," Van said, stepping up to the two of them. He looked at the weapon Luke was carrying with a bit of surprise - usually they practiced with wooden blades, and so even the dulled metal was an unusual change. "I see your mother finally let you graduate to a real weapon, Luke."

Luke slid the sword from its sheath with a sheepish expression. The first time he'd been allowed to use a metal sword, not long after his tenth birthday, he'd sliced his knee open so badly that his mother had forbidden it until he was older. "Well, I'm not going to get used to it if I don't practice, and seventeen is old enough," he answered, looping the sheath into his belt with his left hand and holding the sword in his right. He was nearly equally good with either hand for most things, but right-handed swordsmanship was the standard.

"Then why don't you start by reviewing what we went over last time on the training dummy, and we'll continue from there," Van said, taking a few steps towards the edge of the courtyard just to be sure he was out of the way of any stray artes. Not that Luke wasn't sure he could defend himself anyway, but his role as they began was to observe and offer corrections. Actual sparring would wait until after Luke's muscles were warmed up.

Guy also stepped back, but only as far as the bench at the edge of the courtyard, where he sat down in a loose sprawl. "Think I'll watch from over here. Let's see what you've got, Luke."

"What, Ramdas not giving you enough work to do?" Luke teased gently in return, before settling into a stance and focusing on the blade in his hand. Strike artes weren't as complicated as full fonic artes, but most of them did have some fonic component, and it sometimes took concentration to filter the right fonons out of the air.

This time, however, he didn't even get the chance - his focus was broken by Seventh Fonons in the air, far more than there would normally be, and a short melody that vibrated along with them.

Twei rei tsuae croix ryo twei tsuae...

The words were unfamiliar, but disrupted his entire line of thought, making him drowsy. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep right there was Van's exclamation of shock behind him.

"A fonic hymn?! It can't be - "

Whatever it couldn't be was cut off by a figure jumping from the roof of the manor into the courtyard. Her shout was loud and confident, and clearly the voice was that of the singer.

"I finally found you, Vandesdelca! Prepare to die, traitor!"

"Tear!" Whoever she was, Van clearly recognized her. "I knew it - " His words were cut off at the woman charged at him with her staff, quickly enough that Van was forced to dodge instead of drawing the long sword at his side to parry.

Luke glanced around - Guy was leaning over the bench, struggling to fight off the sleep of the song. Everyone else he could see had succumbed to it; two guards snoring inside their helmets by the door, and Pere slumped forward into the flower patch. That left it to him.

The woman clearly wasn't expecting that anyone other than Van would be able to move after her spell; when she struck out again, her staff clashed against Luke's blade with a metallic ring that vibrated up to his arm.

"Luke, stop!"

Van's cry of warning came too late - their weapons weren't the only things ringing with the vibration of the clash. The Seventh Fonons that had been dormant in the air sprang to life, echoing, a golden glow falling over Luke and the strange woman at the other end of his blade.

"The Seventh Fonon?" he heard her gasp, but the other voice he heard was more familiar, more immediate, the same he had heard many times during the worst of his headaches. He was starting to get one now, in fact, but this was still the clearest he had ever heard it.

Resound...! The will of Lorelei shall reach you... and open the way!

The golden light of the fonons increased, until it was almost blinding. Luke squeezed his eyes shut. For a moment, all he could feel was the pain in his skull and the pressure against his sword.

Then there was a jerk upwards, as though his entire body was pulled up by some force acting on every cell of it at once, and then he felt nothing more.