Athena (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
everlastingsoul) wrote2006-01-17 05:55 am
everlastingsoul) wrote2006-01-17 05:55 am
Entry tags:
ToD/ToD2 fanfic... Yeah, weird... O.o
The results of a Tales of Destiny obsession sitting in the dust. Tales of Destiny and ToD2 spoilers to the max. You can't read three sentences without hitting a spoiler for at least one of the games.
Warnings: Just spoilers. Many, many spoilers.
Word count: 631
Started: January 17, 2006
Finished: January 17, 2006
The past cannot be changed.
He sat in the darkness of the room, brooding once again. Despite Harold’s words and his own reasoning, he felt a weight at the bottom of his stomach every time he thought about Karlel.
There was something depressing about moving through the timestream, seeing worlds that could not be touched no matter how much you wished otherwise. He had previously thought he was no longer affected by such things, but the plight of the E’rthers, and especially the Swordians and Harold, had struck a cord in him.
Thus why he sat in the dark once again, much like when he had been sixteen the first time.
If he had only spoken to Harold, or allowed the others to warn her about Karlel’s encounter with Kronos, he could have possibly changed the world in its entirety. Harold would have run to her brother’s aid and helped him battle Kronos, and together they might have defeated the Emperor of the Aethereans. Kronos would have never taken refuge in Karlel’s Swordian form, would have never survived the thousand year span after the war, and would have never been found by Oberon Corporation.
As a result … his life would have changed as well.
He would have never been kept in the dark and left to build walls around himself. He would have never needed to build his entire world around his beloved maternal figure and watched time and time again as she was hurt on his behalf. He would have never lost his mother and sister in the shuffle between his father’s loss of control and Kronos’ rise to power. He would have never taken another name and joined the ranks of the national army.
And the fate of the world would have changed.
There would have never been corruption within Oberon influenced by Kronos. There would have never been such an aggressive search for the Swordians and the Eye of God. There would have never been so many senseless deaths on the behalf of a crazed emperor. Belcrant would have never risen, the Aethersphere would have never been created, Radisrol would have never been exploded, and the nations would have never been affected and reduced to an unbalanced mess ruled by corrupt theocracy.
There would have never been a need for such heroes as Stahn, Rutee, Philia, and Woodrow.
His eyes drifted over the sleeping forms of his companions. They could all be leading normal lives right now -- Kyle with his parents, Loni off on his adventures, Harold and Nanaly with their brothers, and Reala … off finding herself a hero.
And he… Well, if he was lucky, he would be middle-aged and vice president to his father’s company, as his sister would have run off to be a wild vagrant at eighteen years old. She would, of course, have had married and had Kyle…
… Well, perhaps not. It was very possible Kyle would not exist at all, as Stahn and Rutee would have never met.
His happiness for the life of a rambunctious sleepmonger.
His mortality for the laughter of a boy who faced incredible odds with a challenging grin.
He bowed his head and sighed, listening to the roar of Kyle and Loni’s dual snoring.
He had made his choices; there was no easy way to go back and erase what had happened. If everything had to change just for his own happiness, happiness was not worth it. Besides, as he had told Nanaly, he did not deserve to smile anymore.
His only choice now was to wait for the end. Because, whether they defeated Elraine or not, there would be nothing for him in the aftermath. He smiled wryly and shut his eyes wearily.
A victim of fate no matter what, it seems.
Warnings: Just spoilers. Many, many spoilers.
Word count: 631
Started: January 17, 2006
Finished: January 17, 2006
The past cannot be changed.
He sat in the darkness of the room, brooding once again. Despite Harold’s words and his own reasoning, he felt a weight at the bottom of his stomach every time he thought about Karlel.
There was something depressing about moving through the timestream, seeing worlds that could not be touched no matter how much you wished otherwise. He had previously thought he was no longer affected by such things, but the plight of the E’rthers, and especially the Swordians and Harold, had struck a cord in him.
Thus why he sat in the dark once again, much like when he had been sixteen the first time.
If he had only spoken to Harold, or allowed the others to warn her about Karlel’s encounter with Kronos, he could have possibly changed the world in its entirety. Harold would have run to her brother’s aid and helped him battle Kronos, and together they might have defeated the Emperor of the Aethereans. Kronos would have never taken refuge in Karlel’s Swordian form, would have never survived the thousand year span after the war, and would have never been found by Oberon Corporation.
As a result … his life would have changed as well.
He would have never been kept in the dark and left to build walls around himself. He would have never needed to build his entire world around his beloved maternal figure and watched time and time again as she was hurt on his behalf. He would have never lost his mother and sister in the shuffle between his father’s loss of control and Kronos’ rise to power. He would have never taken another name and joined the ranks of the national army.
And the fate of the world would have changed.
There would have never been corruption within Oberon influenced by Kronos. There would have never been such an aggressive search for the Swordians and the Eye of God. There would have never been so many senseless deaths on the behalf of a crazed emperor. Belcrant would have never risen, the Aethersphere would have never been created, Radisrol would have never been exploded, and the nations would have never been affected and reduced to an unbalanced mess ruled by corrupt theocracy.
There would have never been a need for such heroes as Stahn, Rutee, Philia, and Woodrow.
His eyes drifted over the sleeping forms of his companions. They could all be leading normal lives right now -- Kyle with his parents, Loni off on his adventures, Harold and Nanaly with their brothers, and Reala … off finding herself a hero.
And he… Well, if he was lucky, he would be middle-aged and vice president to his father’s company, as his sister would have run off to be a wild vagrant at eighteen years old. She would, of course, have had married and had Kyle…
… Well, perhaps not. It was very possible Kyle would not exist at all, as Stahn and Rutee would have never met.
His happiness for the life of a rambunctious sleepmonger.
His mortality for the laughter of a boy who faced incredible odds with a challenging grin.
He bowed his head and sighed, listening to the roar of Kyle and Loni’s dual snoring.
He had made his choices; there was no easy way to go back and erase what had happened. If everything had to change just for his own happiness, happiness was not worth it. Besides, as he had told Nanaly, he did not deserve to smile anymore.
His only choice now was to wait for the end. Because, whether they defeated Elraine or not, there would be nothing for him in the aftermath. He smiled wryly and shut his eyes wearily.
A victim of fate no matter what, it seems.
no subject
Ah...I have a certain amount of familiarity with ToD2, but I liked ToD.
Ha ha...I really like Leon. I appreciate that Athena.
no subject
Leon spurred many good fics back in his day. He's a very sulky muse right now because all he's good at is angsting. ^_^