A/N: So, like, I'm apparently posting a new multi-chapter story that hasn't gone on Wattpad first. 0_0

And do I need to do those little disclaimer thingies? I never have before, but meh...maybe for the first chappy...

Disclaimer: In no way to do I own Tales of Symphonia. It is the property of Namco. Or Bandai. Whatever their name is. I only own the plot. (At least I think so. I haven't seen any other of these types of stories ¬_¬)

Absolute pain.

She knew nothing else, as she collapsed to the floor, her body changing back. Distantly she heard her son cry her name, rushing over to her and kneeling beside her.

"Mummy! Mummy!" he wailed, shaking her lightly, trying to get her to respond.

Suddenly the ground cracked, and her eyes flickered open slightly before they fell. Her son screamed, and she reached out, trying to sheild him. She heard her husband cry out, saw him reaching for them, before he was overtaken by Desians and blocked from view.

She hit the ground hard.

It was painful, but at least her son was alright. She heard a whine and realised their 'pet' had also fallen with them.

"Noishe...Take Lloyd...get out of here..." she gasped. She knew he was injured, but the monsters were merciless, and she could not allow her child to die.

Noishe hesitated then picked the unconcious child up, pulling him onto his back. With one last lick of her face, he turned, limping off into the forest at a reasonable speed.

She watched them go through hazy eyes, before sighing in relief and closing them. Finally, she was dying. She did want to live, had wanted to see her child grow, but if that meant putting her family in danger, she would gladly fade from this world.

Would gladly be someone who she was not.

And then her eyes slid shut, preparing for her death.

Dirk was returning home, grinning to himself. He'd managed to catch a pretty good animal today, so he'd be having plenty to eat.

He came to the cliff edge and looked around. He'd heard fighting earlier, and wondered if those Desians had been taking humans again.

Then he gasped.

A young woman lay there, short brown hair fanned out around her, eyes closed as her breath came in ragged gasps. A large wound on her side was obvious, and he wondered how she had lived that long. Then he spotted her Exsphere, and realised.

Dropping the animal, he picked her up carefully, hurrying home. He lay her on his bed as he searched around for some healing items, finally finding a few and using them on her. The wound began to heal up, the blood flow stopping, and he breathed in relief before bandaging the rest up. She was still breathing, at least, so she wasn't dead yet.

As he gazed at her Exsphere, he realised it was different from most others. This one was a bright blue, rather than the blood red that most were. Shaking his head, he went to his forge, starting to make a Key Crest. He didn't care if it was pointless, if she could die at any moment, or if it didn't work. Dwarven vow number 2: Never abandon someone in need. And this woman was in need.

It was the next day when he finally finished. He had periodically checked up on the woman, and though she was getting better, she still hadn't woken. Working through the night, he had finished the Key Crest, and hurried back to her.

"Alrigh' missy, time ta wake up," he murmured, placing the Key Crest around her neck, near the Exsphere, where it glowed slightly before dimming again. Smiling, he realised it had worked. Now whether she survived or not would depend on her own will to live.

She opened her eyes slowly, flinching as she expected pain then blinked in confusion as to why she should. Sitting up, she looked around.

"Ah, yer up, are ya? Good, was startin' ter git a bit worried there..."

She turned, gaze alighting on a small man with pointy ears and a bushy weird. He smiled warmly.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"At my house. Name's Dirk, and I'm a dwarf."

"What happened?"

"I dunno, was hopin' ya could tell me. Well, never min'..."

"Who am I?"

Dirk stopped moving. He looked at her cautiously, scanning her face. She looked back at him innocently, blinking.

"...I was hopin' ya could tell me that too," he murmured.

"Oh."

"Do ya know anythin'?"

She considered, then shook her head.

"Nothing, really."

Dirk sighed, rubbing a hand against his chin. "Alrigh'...Ya wanna think of a name?"

"I'm not sure I could think of any good ones."

"Then..how 'bout 'Clara'?"

She blinked, then shrugged. "If you think it's good, it's fine."

Dirk nodded. "Alrigh' then, suppose I'll go take ya down ter the village, see if we can git ya some help.."

Clara smiled. "Okay," she replied, then followed him out of the house.

~*~*~*~*~ Ten years later ~*~*~*~*~

Clara sat in her home, flipping through one of the few books she had. Usually at this time of the day, she would be in her shop, selling weapons to the few visitors who came. However, every shop was closed today, as it was the day of the Oracle.

Clara, a short while after moving into the village, showed herself to be very proficient with weapons when a monster mob managed to get into the town centre. Dirk said it had to do with the Exsphere at her throat, but she wasn't sure what an Exsphere really was, so she couldn't tell.

Since then, she had become two things; a shop owner to a small shop which sold weapons that Dirk crafted, and one of the people who was supposed to accompany Colette on her journey of Restoration.

She was just at the end of her page when there was a loud knocking at the door. Sighing, she closed her book and stood up, heading to it.

"Yes?" she asked as she looked out.

"The Oracle has arrived, Miss Clara! Please, make your way to the Temple!" The laboured breathing of the priest almost made her raise an eyebrow - surely it wasn't that desperate - before she shrugged.

"Alright," she replied, before going back in and grabbing her weapons, slipping her coat on.

Clara wore a white shirt with red stripes down the edge, white shorts with red belt, a long sleeved, trench-coat like jacket, white and red boots and white gloves. She wore a white bandana around her neck, hiding her Exsphere from view. Underneath the sleeves of her jacket, a concealed knife was strapped to each of her wrists, so that if she flicked her wrists in a certain way they would flip out and she could easily attack. A large scythe was strapped to her back, black blade with white handle. A black knife was strapped to her knee, within view, but it was mainly used as a distraction so that she could easily remove the throwing knives from her pocket if she needed a sneak attack.

She was well known for being unique with her fighting methods.

Finally ready, she stood up and left, brushing past the still stuttering priest. She strode confidentally to the church, easily running up the steps.

As she rose higher, however, her keen ears picked up a sound she had not expected to hear so soon.

Fighting.

Eyes narrowing, she took the last few steps three at a time, bursting into the room just as three Desians ran towards the young, blond Chosen. Scowling, she reached for the strap on her right side, removing some of the knives by their handle and throwing them with ease.

One missed. Two struck the Desians dead on, killing them instantly. The last merely wounded him, and Clara growled as he lunged at the Chosen, and she cried out in panic.

Then the window shattered, and a figure leapt infront of the Chosen, blocking the sword and thrusting it back, before reversing it and stabbing the Desian through the heart, where he collapsed, blood pooling out of his body.

Clara sighed in relief. The Chosen was safe - uninjured, at least. Walking over to her, she stopped infront of the shaking girl.

"Colette, are you alright?" she asked, brown eyes gentle as she surveyed the younger girl.

"Y-Yes Miss Clara...I'm alright," Colette replied, giving a smile that Clara immediately saw through.

"You don't need to be nervous, Colette. I'm here with you," Clara said soothingly, laying a hand on the child's shoulder. Colette nodded, giving a proper smile this time, then turned as the man walked towards them.

"Oh, um, thank you for saving me, mister," she said politely, bowing.

The man inclined his head slightly, glancing back as an aged woman came towards them.

"Phaidra," Clara greeted curtly.

"Clara. I see you've arrived, and just in time to save the Chosen, too."

"Of course, Phaidra. I promised to protect her."

Phaidra nodded wisely, then turned to the man. "And who are you? You have my gratitude for saving my granddaughter."

"Kratos, ma'am. I'm a travelling mercenary. If you can pay me, I can protect the Chosen on her journey."

"Indeed...The priests that were to accompany the Chosen before have all been slaughtered, so I suppose we can reach some agreement," Phaidra murmured.

Kratos nodded, glancing at Clara. "And you are?"

"Isn't it more polite to give your own name first?" snapped Clara.

He inclined his head. "Indeed. I apologise for my rudeness. My name is Kratos Aurion."

"Clara."

Kratos accepted the short reply, his eyes studying her for a moment, taking in her face. They narrowed fractionally then turned as Phaidra turned to Colette.

"Now Chosen, it is time to go recieve the Oracle," she murmured.

"Yes, Grandmother," Colette murmured, turning and heading towards the opening. Clara moved after her, and after a moment Kratos followed.