Write a New Future

Me: Now I enter the realm of the Tales Series...and its an SI. I credit New Reality by noa748 for giving me this plot bunny after I stumbled on Tales of Symphonia and directly afterwards, Tales of Vesperia. They've quickly turned into two of my favorite games and Yuri has become one of my favorite characters from anything. So, I ended up coming up with this pretty much overnight and wrote it at two in the morning. Heh. Least insomnia's good for something.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Vesperia.

Prologue: Oh Death

Incomprehensible darkness filled my vision; there was a ringing in my ears like the clanging of a church bell, or the screeching feedback of a dropped microphone. I tried to move, to blink, but my body wouldn't respond. I hung suspended in a void. Something hot and sticky was dripping down my cheeks, and the only thing disturbing the stationary hollow was the intense throbbing of something above my eyes.

Am I dead?

No, no, it shouldn't be like this, please, there couldn't just be a void of nothing after death, don't let there be nothing, please I'm not ready, oh god, oh why-

Wait. Could I hear barking?

My heart raced. Was racing. Good. That had to be good, right? My heart wouldn't be racing if I was dead. Maybe I'm just...j-just...what? How...how did this happen...? Shouldn't I be...?

"...hey...?!"

Huh? Person?

I tried to move my head, tilt it towards the sound. Big mistake. The throbbing, the pain grew so bad the void turned pure white, stars peppering its vast embrace. A whimper filled my ears, from close by...maybe from myself...? A burning sensation followed it, like I'd swallowed fire or sandpaper. My lips cracked. I felt my face screw up, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

I wanted to die. I wanted to die! God I hurt everywhere!

A hand touched my shoulder. I tried to roll away from it – nononono don't touch me, please, don't move me, you'll make it worse-!, but my muscles were completely locked up. Something lightly prodded the crown of my head, where the pain was at its worst, and I wanted to bite that person's fucking fingers off because god why-

"You're hurt," A soft, gentle sounding male voice told me. I wanted to shriek at him, no fucking shit!, gee, I never would have noticed!, well do something!, but I couldn't. I was physically incapable. "It's all right." Nothing's all right! Don't fucking lie to me! God, please, help me! "Just hold still. I've got gel."

Who was this guy? I'd never heard his voice before. Then the last sentence sank in and I nearly choked with angry confusion.

Gel? How the fuck were hair products supposed to help me if I'm bleeding to death?!

Then something hard and cold was sliding under my neck; moving my head, propping it up – and this time I did cry out, scream, like a little girl, because the movement swamped me with a horrifically intense sensation of vertigo.

"I'm sorry," The man said, his voice cracking slightly – and he did sound contrite, so maybe I wouldn't bite his neck open when/if I could manage that – "I'm sorry; it's to keep you from choking." There was a quick pause, then - "Water; Yuri, she needs water."

"Right." Another voice said from vaguely near by.

Was this guy a policeman? An EMT? (Where were these words coming from?) If so, was he fresh out of college or what, you're hurting me – I whimpered, sobbed, my eyes were burning from the tears but I couldn't will them to open.

"Everything will be okay," The gentle voice promised me, though he sounded guilt stricken. "I promise; I'm here to help."

"Got it. Hey, give her to me – you're wearing gauntlets, genius," The other guy was back. His voice was smooth and deep; I felt like it belonged to one of those super spy charmers – a guy who could get any woman or man he wanted with a couple offhanded remarks and a sly look. If I had been in any position to appreciate it, I might have blushed.

"R-Right." The first, gentler voice sounded flustered. I flinched when I felt myself being traded; though this time I didn't scream (perhaps because my throat and lips hurt way too much for that). The cold hardness was gone and replaced with soft, callous hands. Something touched my lips, water seeping into the cracks. I jerked and whimpered.

"Drink just a little so you can swallow." The new guy instructed. The command was tinged with softness, encouragement. It made me decide to try, in spite of the tightness in my throat.

I couldn't nod, couldn't speak (god my throat was on fire) but I could tilt myself forward just a bit. Cool water splashed against my tongue; I swallowed two large, greedy gulps and nearly heaved, sputtering and shaking in the arms of this guy...

"Take it easy; take it easy," The smooth voiced young man said; his tone still even and calm. "Now take this..."

He pushed something soft into my mouth. In retrospect I'm surprised I could manage my panicking, malfunctioning body enough to swallow it; it wasn't too big but when my every twitch sent spazams through seemingly every nerve I had...but I did swallow it.

That's when it happened. Something cool immediately settled in my stomach, and spread from there like water spilling from a font. My limbs stopped jerking and the throbbing in my head began to lessen, slowly...

I blinked. I blinked once, twice, and flinched because the sunlight was so bright bright bright goddamn it who turned the lights on. "It's okay." The gentle voice said again. "The gel takes a few seconds to kick in."

"She's going to need more than an apple gel," The smooth voice noted. "That head wound is the worst of it, but it's not her only problem."

The first guy was right. The throbbing was winding down, softening to a dull if persistent and omnipresent ache. Whoever was holding me shifted his grip slightly, leaning my head against his shoulder, supporting all my weight. I gave another go at opening my eyes.

Everything was blurry, at first, and it was still bright – though less painful, now...I blinked a few more times, causing things to come into focus ever so slightly. It allowed me to see the people speaking to me...

A handsome face gazed down at me, set in an expression that read of controlled concern. He had long, silky dark violet hair and gray eyes. Tilting my head, I saw the other person kneeling next to me was a brilliant blonde with blue eyes, visibly and openly worried. I blinked at them both, uncomprehending.

"Miss?" Blonde asked me gently. "Miss, can you hear me?"

I tried to say yes, but ended up coughing again. I pressed my arm against my stomach. Noir tightened his grip on me, murmuring, 'easy there'. I sank my fingers into his arm, fighting to stop from shaking. Finally, I managed to nod.

Relief flooded his face. It was at this point that I noticed that Blonde was wearing a serious, heavy duty suit of freaking plate armor – something my addled brain latched onto for a second. Weird. Wrong. Misplaced. The throbbing in my head suddenly increased again; dazed I reached up to touch my forehead when Noir batted my hand down.

"Bad idea," He said simply. "Is that your bag?" He gestured a few feet away, where a red bag was sitting forgotten on the sidewalk. It looked out of place, against the cobblestone – cobblestone? That looked and sounded about right, or not...no, no, don't think about it, don't let the headache come back. Bag. Was it my bag.

I nodded again. That seemed about right. I liked red. I think. So the red bag was probably mine.

"We should take her back to the higher quarter," Blonde said.

"The inn's closer," Noir disputed. "And I have more gel there. You can walk her through the prescient when she's capable of standing unaided."

Noir then slid his other arm under my legs and lifted me up like I didn't weigh a thing, bridal style. I squeaked, my brain still cycling uselessly. Blonde grabbed my bag as Noir began to walk.

These two looked familiar. Not in a 'long lost best friend' way, but in a 'famous person who's picture's been around' sort of way. It was giving me an ugly nagging feeling – the sort of feeling you got when your hatred of writing MLA compliant essays caused you to put them off until three days before they're due. The still quite considerable pain I was experiencing, however, was enough to bury the feeling.

Bury everything.

-Later-

Something warm is leaning against my side. My eyelids twitched and slowly blinked open; they were sticky and felt heavy, like I'd been crying in my sleep. A numbness had set in my muscles. Whoever my companion was, they were the only thing I was sensitive to. At least I wasn't lying on hard stone anymore...My vision was blurry. I slowly raised a hand to rub the haze away. I was inside? It looked like someone's room.

The thing leaning against me rumbled, shifting. I blinked twice...

...and found myself looking at an absolutely enormous hound. He was nearly as long as I was tall, with blue and white fur and an honest to god iron chain collar. The creature was pressed up against my side – his head tilted to the right over his paws, his ear pressed against my stomach – having been napping contently right up until I moved and jostled him. It had a pipe lazily hanging from its mouth (something in my brain screamed at both the wrongness and comical nature of this) and now it was examining me with its head tilted slightly to the right. I stared back, paralyzed with shock – dogs weren't supposed to look like that, get that big – when it nosed my chest, then hopped off the bed and padded across the room, disappearing through the partially open door.

Okay. Okay.

I tried to sit up. Pins and needles immediately assaulted my efforts. My throat was still dry as a bone, though it didn't burn as much as before. Flexing my fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them, I looked about the room. It looked like a hotel suite, or maybe an apartment. And whoever occupied it was as careless with their stuff as I was – there were books, coats and plates stacked precariously all over the place. I was lying on the bed, the distinctly worn blankets having been pulled up to my shoulders before I moved. My red bag was propped up against the wall next to the bed.

Slowly I leaned back against the headboard, blinking. A dull ache rippled through my forehead, a faint and faded feeling that brought me back. Hesitantly I brushed my fingers along my temple – I kinda expected it to be swathed with bandages, just barely stitched together, from the faint memory of deep pain that accompanied it. Instead I felt bare skin, hair that was tangled and dried with old blood, and a thin scar.

That...didn't make sense. None of this made sense. Think. Thinkthinkthink. How did I get here?

Where was here?

As I sat there, a deep, carnivorous fear took hold with an ice cold suddenness.

I didn't know. I didn't remember landing on that road, I didn't remember what I was doing or how I got there...I didn't remember what I had been doing. I didn't remember anything.

"There you are. I was wondering how much longer you were going to sleep. The floorboards aren't exactly comfortable."

My head snapped over to the doorway. Holy mother of mercy.

Maybe it was because my brain was scrambling for something to hold onto, but the first thought that struck me when I saw the owner of that voice – the same butter-would-melt voice I heard through the haze of pain however long ago – was that if he hadn't had that distinct timber, I might have mistaken him for a girl.

My second thought was that he was bloody gorgeous.

I had a distinct impression that I'd always had a weakness for long hair and dark leather when it came to men. Not only did Noir have both those traits, but his jacket was only halfway done up and I could tell from here that, slender he may be, he was all muscle. Storm gray eyes slid over me, assessing my condition, and his lips curved into a slight smile. I suppose I should be grateful that I was confused as fuck and my body wasn't feeling particularly responsive, because I'm pretty sure my jaw would have dropped and all sorts of embarrassing nonsense would have poured out of my mouth.

The massive hound padded back into the room, brushing against Noir's leg and sitting next to him. Yep, it still had that pipe in its mouth. That, that was distracting.

I swallowed and coughed. "I...who?"

God, I sounded awful. My voice rasped and I nearly broke down coughing again. Noir didn't look very surprised; he crossed the room in a few strides and handed me a glass of water I hadn't noticed he was holding. I took it and drank it down in one go; in that moment nothing had tasted so good.

"Thank you," I said softly, before nervously glancing up at him...or slightly to the right of him, so the heat tingling my cheeks didn't become too obvious. "H-How...?" I gestured faintly to my head. "I thought..."

"Medical gel." Noir explained, as if it were obvious. "Whatever hit you didn't fracture your skull, so it was just a matter of closing the wound."

Gel. Huh. Didn't associate gel with medicine, but...I was alright now, wasn't I? In fact, I was better off than I would have been otherwise. Having no choice but to accept the oddness, I said, "T-Thank you. F-for helping me."

"Don't worry about it." For a moment, Noir's expression darkened ever so slightly. "Do you have any idea who attacked you?"

Attacked? Why would anyone bother attacking me...I didn't have anything of any real value, I wasn't anyone important...I shook my head no. The fear bubbled up again. "I can't...I don't remember..." I pulled my knees towards my chest. My heart started to pound as I scrabbled for purchase in the black hole in my memory. I couldn't...a dull ache bloomed in my skull. I whimpered.

"Hey, easy there." Noir cautioned. "After taking a hit like that, everything's bound to be scrambled." The massive dog barked in agreement. "How about your name? Can you tell me?"

"..." For a second I was afraid I couldn't. Then it hit me. "...Emily. It's Emily." It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it would do for right now. "A...and you?"

He smiled at me, which made my stomach do backflips. God, I hoped I wasn't blushing. "Yuri Lowell." His pet whined, padding forward and nuzzling my hand. "And that is Repede."

I chanced a smile in return, cautiously petting Repede between the ears. He could probably bite my arm off if he was so inclined, he was so big. Okay, I had to know... "You gave your dog a pipe?" I asked, tilting my head towards it.

"Why not?" Yuri answered with a shrug. "It was a gift." He eyed me again, like he felt there was something in my appearance that didn't add up, before saying, "Think you can walk? Flynn came by just a minute ago, asking after you."

Walk. I blinked and swung my legs out over the bed, wincing as I did so. "Um, m-maybe in a minute? Just...need to get the feeling back."

Yuri chuckled; the noise gave me shivers and I stared fixedly at my feet because if I didn't he'd definitely see me blushing. "Don't strain yourself; I'd rather like to have my own bed back."

How long had I relegated him to the floor of his own apartment? Who would do that for a total stranger? I glanced shyly up at him, hoping some sort of clever retort would jump into my head; of course none did. "Sorry," was all I managed.

He waved it off, then offered me his hand. I took it, hoping I wasn't too red in the face, and tried standing up. Thankfully, my legs did not give out as I had initially feared they would; after stretching them a bit I was fairly confident in my ability to walk. Mumbling 'thank you' at Yuri again, I let him lead me out of his room, Repede padding along side me.

The Inn – I was fairly certain it was an inn of some sort; wooden walls and floor, and I could hear the rattling of a wooden stove somewhere among the chatter and people moving about. Yuri strode with smooth grace down the stairwell and into the lobby; when I lost my footing he turned and caught me before I my stumbling could throw me down the last few stairs. I felt like a little girl in the arms of a rock star; my cheeks were about to burn off and I knew immediately that we had people's attention. God, the inn had a bar; just my luck.

Some guy wolf nearby whistled, and another said, "Finally found yourself a good catch, Yuri? She looks awfully high class for you!"

"Unfortunately, my intentions here are strictly honorable," Yuri responded without missing a beat, while I stuttered and instinctively scrambled out of his arms, away from his (incredibly well cut) chest. God, I had been 'recovering' in the apartment of an incredibly handsome – people were gonna think all sorts of – it was too early in the morning for this! "Terrible for gossip, I know!" He took my wrist again. "Where'd Flynn get to?"

"Out by the aque blastia," One of the waitresses said. "How's your head, miss?" She asked, and I started when I realized she was talking to me. "You looked terrible when Yuri brought you in yesterday."

"Oh! Oh, um, I'm f-fine," I managed, running a hand through my hair – a tangled mess of heather brown waves that stopped just below my shoulder blades. "I mean, I got better. P-partly." I'm still confused, still don't understand anything, but I don't feel like my skull's splitting open. That had to count for something.

Then something odd occurred to me. High class? I looked high class? Was that right? I looked down at myself. My clothes...well, there were some off putting bloodstains on them, but apart from that they looked pretty different compared to what people here were wearing. A dark blue and (machine stitched?) shirt with some sort of white bear image on it, and dark blue jeans that reached my ankles and hugged my legs. Not quite form fitting, but closer to being that than most other people here. I realized abruptly that several of the men in the bar were looking at me, not saying anything just looking, and that was probably why...

"Let's not keep the lieutenant waiting, Emily." Yuri said, tugging me along – he pulled my wrist so I was close to him, and I realized with a rush of relief that he had seen the looks too. I heard another whistle and 'oh, so she's Emily huh?' from someone near the back, and it's amazing I was still conscious with all this blood in my head. Moments later we were out the door.

My first thought – not my first thought. It was yet another internal ping of 'this doesn't look right'. The inn was on a corner of a small square. Wooden and stone buildings two high at most lined the streets, some with flower boxes at the windowsills. All the roads were cobblestone, just like the one I'd woken up on. In the center of the square was a large device with a gleaming blue gem of sorts in the center. Water was pouring from its opening. When I looked up, I saw a massive white castle raising above the skyline, banners fluttering in the wind.

I was so distracted by this I nearly stumbled when Yuri tugged me forward; he shot me a look and said with a wry smile, "There's not much interesting to look at here."

"I disagree," I mumbled. "You have, um, interesting friends."

He sobered at that. "Don't mind them," He said, his voice calm and lacking the teasing vibe. "Hanks opened a tab about an hour ago; they're usually more polite."

"W-What's the occasion?" I asked tentatively, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder at the inn/tavern with either fear or wonder. Since when was I someone to look at? I can't remember – I couldn't – oh. oh. No, don't panic, don't panic, oh god-

"-went down. Which is funny, because I just got released for chasing the last four collectors out of the quarter two days before the announcement." Yuri was saying, and the second part snapped me out of my panic. "I guess they wanted me to stop scaring off the new recruits; the last four they sent after me apparently wanted a transfer."

"You've been arrested?" I yelped.

Yuri grinned at me, completely unrepentant. "Hey, someone has to keep the Empire from stealing the coins of blind men."

"What he means," cut in an exasperated new voice, "was that Yuri thought it would be more prudent not to make a formal compliant about damages or the revenue, but to get in regular sword fights with the city knights like he was a drunk mercenary."

For the first time I noticed that, yeah, Yuri was carrying a sword – it hung lazily near the ground, the straps wrapped around the hand not holding my wrist. I blamed it on how disoriented I was, but it was only in that moment that I realized my new 'friend' might be a more dangerous man than he seemed.

"Yes, because there's no way a formal complaint from the lower quarter won't get conveniently buried under the mountain of bureaucracy that the Empire micromanages." Yuri retorted, his voice the sound of one giving a well worn argument as he and I both turned towards the voice.

I blinked; it was Blonde – the other man who helped me on the road. He was about as tall as Yuri, but he held himself completely differently; he had the walk and the posture of a highly disciplined man. He was also very pleasant to look at; short golden hair framed a friendly face and warm, ocean blue eyes, and while his armor left a lot to the imagination he was likely in excellent shape.

His expression, which was a mixture of annoyance, frustration and a hint of what was either world weary amusement or affection, softened as he turned his attention to me. "I'm glad to see you've woken up. You aren't feeling any pain, are you?"

I tugged at a strand of my hair, trying to will the heat away from my face. "N, not anymore." I said. "Um, are you Flynn?" Because I was determined not to embarrass myself any further and call him 'Blonde' to his face.

"Yes." He gave me a gentle smile, and wow, if all the young men around here looked and acted like this, maybe this wasn't a total disaster. "What's your name?"

"I'm Emily..." It was really all I trusted myself to say. Last name? Did I have a last name? I tried to think on it, but doing so made my head ache. So instead I said, "Did you have to bail Yuri out of jail?"

Wow. Artless. I winced, half expected Yuri to get offended, but he just grinned at me while Flynn looked long suffering.

"I would only extend that once, and besides a knight should not show partiality." He said, throwing his dark haired counterpart a pointed look. Suddenly, somehow, I had a feeling that despite that, Flynn had been helping his friend anyway – it was something about the look in his eyes. "Of course that wouldn't be much of a concern if he went for more than a month at a time without finding more trouble!"

"Hey! I don't start every fight I get into!" Yuri complained, but he never lost his smile. It made me wonder if he was taking Flynn's concerns very seriously. I figured that repeated prison sentences weren't something one should have a blithe attitude towards. I wondered what Yuri had to deal with that made him so apathetic to those sorts of consequences.

Flynn shook his head, before returning his attention to me. "How did you get hurt? Did someone attack you?"

I shut my eyes, squeezing my hands so my fingers dug into my palms. Then Flynn asked something that shifted my fate for the foreseeable future.

"Were they trying to steal your blastia?"

My eyes shot open, and I gave him an odd look. He nodded towards my left wrist. Frowning, I raised my arm and looked...how had I not seen it before? There was a golden band around my wrist, with a glowing white stone in the middle of it. It seemed to be...glowing, for lack of a better word, and it felt warm against my skin. I stared for a few seconds before giving Flynn a semi anxious look. "T-This? I don't know what this is."

The alarmed looks Flynn and Yuri exchanged tied my stomach in a knot.

**~Line Break~**

I rather wanted to pass out again. Spending an indeterminate amount of time in the comforting blanket of darkness seemed preferable to the reality before me.

I curled up on the chair in the Knight Barracks, the closest they had to a precinct. (I'm still not sure where these words are coming from). Flynn had brought me here after asking me a few questions that, when I failed to answer them correctly, had Yuri looking at me with a sort of horrified awe.

"Can you tell me the name of the capital?"

"It...starts with a Z?"

"...Who runs the Guild Union?"

"Guild Union? Is that the name of a political party? I didn't think...um...I don't know."

"When was the Great War, and how long did it last?"

"1914, and it ran until 1918...I think."

"What's the city of Aspio famous for?"

"Um...(does that sound familiar?) ...books?"

"The name of the last Emperor?"

"I don't know...should I?" (oh god...)

"...Do you have any family?"

"Yes! (thank god. Something I'm sure of) Yes, I have parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and an older brother. I...they're...they're...um..."

(that's when I started crying. When I realized I didn't remember any of their names.)

Flynn hugged me, waited until I calmed down, (I remembered feeling Yuri's steady hand on my back as well), and promised to help. God, I was so lucky that they were the ones who stumbled on me. That's why he brought me here...He was having someone look through the records to see if I had any identification. If I had ever lived here, or any nearby area controlled by the Empire, it would be written down somewhere. Thank god for redundant bureaucracy. He was also looking to see if there was anywhere I could be put up for the time being...because I had no money and no place to stay.

In short, I was terrified, and until he came back I had nothing to do but dwell on how screwed I was.

How was it possible for me to completely lack any basic knowledge about the world? Intellectually I knew it was possible for head wounds to cause memory loss, but nothing this extensive! Yuri had even said that the wound itself wasn't serious compared to others he'd seen people survive...so why was my mind a complete blank?

It also raised the problem of what the hell I was going to do with myself. I didn't know for certain if I had any skills; my hands didn't look like they belonged to somebody used to doing work (unlike Yuri). I was somewhat round at the stomach, suggesting regular good meals, and I had little in the way of muscle. Suddenly the 'high class' remark from the tavern came back to me, offering a suggestion of my past. Maybe I was some noble girl who'd been injured in a mugging, a girl who'd never had to do anything in her life so she wouldn't have been able to defend herself. It was the nearest explanation I had that made good sense, and it might explain why I kept going in and out of fits of hysteria.

I gripped my backpack. I hadn't opened it yet; it was all I had left from where ever my home was and I didn't want to show its contents to anyone until I at least knew where I was sleeping.

So I was curled up in the chair provided for me in one of the castle's hallways, like a child, waiting – I'd been waiting for a while now.

What should I do now?

My internal radar – which had been pinging at me all day – was saying that I was neglecting to remember something important. There was so little in my head I figured that could mean anything.

More. Fool. Was. I.

End Prologue

Yes, the amnesia classic - it's part of how I intend to submerge my SI in a very foreign world, allow her to get comfortable and get the feel of it before I yank the rug out from under her. Because if I dropped myself directly into the middle of the story, I would die. (chuckle) Unfortunately true. No amount of karate lessons can properly prepare you for an Eggbear, much less Yeager.

Read and Review please!