Chapter 1

"N.D. 2002. The One Who Would Seize Glory shall destroy the land 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."

The words echoed out, their meaning filled with a dreaded tone of finality as it pierced through air. Or was it through me? It each syllable quaked with an unseen power, and my mind quaked alongside it, as a burning pain seared itself into my awareness. At that moment, questions finally rose up, my mind coming to life as the words filled my very being. Where was I? Who's voice is that? And why did every word hurt?

But questions went unanswered, and the voice continued on, droning out with mechanical clarity. Whatever that meant.

"This war shall be marked by a deluge, born from Hod's loss and demise. The tides shall sweep through the doomed islands, casting aside both people and land. The Sister of Hod, an Island of the name Feres, will bear the brunt of this death, weeping for its brother amidst the tide. Her people shall weep with her, and be lost to the sea."

At those words, a sound filled the air. Or perhaps, it was always there, and I only noticed it just now. Regardless, I turned to its source, my mind mixed with confusion and panic as I did so. Rather than answers, all I had found was a distant shadow, looming over the horizon.

More questions filled my mind, adding to the earlier list as I took in the sight. What was that sound? What's that shadow? Why was it night? And as before, they went unanswered, words and pain resonating as one as the voice spoke again.

"Gardios. Fende. Though some families will survive, it is only the seeds of these two houses that shall continue their name. Lost forevermore shall be the houses of Tithas and Remaldis, of Kvento and Calus. And of countless more. Lost shall be their masters and mistresses, servants and scions, consumed by a maelstrom born from ambition."

The voice belonged to an old man. I wasn't quite sure how I hadn't noticed it earlier, but as he spoke those final words, the age in his voice finally took hold. And more than that, I could hear where that voice had echoed out from. My vision shifted as I turned to the source.

There, collapsed on the ground, was an elder man draped in silken cloth. His robe was plain, bearing few markings as black and gold weavings ran along the hem of the fabric. Really, the only distinct feature was a strange red symbol that stood at the center of his clothes. It must've had some significance to the man, as he gradually brought a wrinkled hand up to his chest, clutching it tightly as he wore a grimace on his face, all while his attention turned skyward. Ceilingward. That's a ceiling.

"... I'm sorry, child."

He spoke once again, but unlike last time, his words weren't accompanied by searing pain. Instead, the only thing carried by his voice was regret, his words hitching slightly as he took in a deep breath, before turning his gaze down to the child beside him.

That's when I noticed that there was a child beside him.

Or rather, there was a child sprawled on the ground beside him. The child himself was dressed in an overly-lavish set of clothes. Royal blue fabric, gold trim, an embroidered emblem of some kind... The boy looked every part a fancy noble, besides his ... eyes. An odd thing to notice, I guess, but it was hard to ignore the look of surprise on the child's face, his blue eyes wide alarm as he peered up at the old man. The child's face was... curious, almost ignorant, and it was clear that the child had no clue what the man was talking about.

Which was in stark contrast to the grim expression on the old man's face. He winced, forcing himself not to frown, his aged features still as he stared down at the boy. "You asked me where your family was, but those words were all I could provide. Your family asked me to keep you safe, but this... this was all I could do."

Recognition flashed in the child's eyes, hearing the familiar words, crawling up to his feet as he made his way over to the man. Part of me wanted to ask why the kid was on the ground in the first place, but that question was halted entirely as the man's voice suddenly shouted out.

"Stop!" In one loud cry, he interrupted the child's actions, barking sharply at the kid before tightening his grip on his chest. And the child stopped, despite his panicked worries, the young boy anxious as he stared up at the man. The elderly man seemed to relax at that, his face softening as he stared at the child. "It's dangerous. You could... you could get hurt."

The man heaved as he spoke, one hand gesturing around them as his words bled out. My eyes followed his actions, and that's when I finally realized that we were inside some sort of building. Or at the very least, the ruins of one. Debris and rubble was strewn across the ground, and that ceiling I had noticed earlier was partially collapsed, as tiles and wooden beams broke away to a cloudy night sky. The floor was half-flooded, with bits of stone and wood drifting aimlessly, littering the ground with sharp hazards. With all that said and done, the man wasn't entirely wrong; a child fumbling around here was probably dangerous.

Still... why was the child on the floor in the first place? Even now, I could see where the kid had been laying, and it was clear by the scattered debris that he had been thrown there, rather than asked to quietly lay down. Why did-

Another sharp cry echoed from the man, drawing both the attention of the child and myself. The child gave a worried gasp, and my own eyes widened in realization. That symbol I had noticed earlier, the one in his robes? That... wasn't a symbol. It was a broken end of a wooden support, sharpened and bloodied as it pierced through the man's chest. His hadn't brought up his hand because of any sentimental reason, but because he had wanted to hide it from the child... But blood flows, and the man couldn't hide crimson pigment as it bled into his cloak.

"A-are...?" The child tried to speak, his voice carrying his age as he stumbled through the words. He couldn't voice more than that, his face twisting into a worried frown as he stared at the robed man.

"Don't worry. I'm okay. I'm okay." The man repeated his words, his voice growing more firm as he did so. It was clear that he wasn't, at least to me, but the child seemed to reluctantly accept his words. Gradually, the man straightened himself, willed himself to settle down as he turned his eyes upwards once more. Quietly, he muttered into the air, the words lost to the child. "I need to be, at least for this..."

The air began to well up, a sensation that was... similar to the burning words from earlier, but far more comforting. Rather than pain, a dull haze began to gather at the edge of my senses, a fog that grew more dense with each passing moment. The man was doing something, and I could clearly feel the results of his actions as a cool chill condensed. Yet, I had no clue what was going on, and the man's words carried no answers.

"...Even if it's absolute, am I able to change something as small as this?" I had no clue what he was talking about, and the child didn't seem to hear the man's mutterings. The meaning behind his actions were lost... but it didn't matter. Whether I understood it or not, his actions occurred all the same, and a purple fog began to surround the room.

"Oh melody which beckons towards the abyss..." The feeling of power intensified, and that cold feel bled into the air. The fog flickered, and the water contained within seemed to pulse at his words. "Wash us in the embrace of darkness..."

Okay, the words were a bit unconventional. And the sight of an old, bloodied man fervently muttering them honestly caused more questions than they-

"Tue rei ze croa riou tue ze."

I froze. Not because I recognized the words, but because I recognized... You know how people say that music is closely connected with memories? Well, now I understand why. As the man muttered those words, a haunting melody bound them together, resonating out with the air as a wave of burden grew from the fog. But I didn't pay attention to that in the slightest, because I recognized that melody.

In an instant, I understood the meaning of that song. Well, no, that's not right. I just recognized it for what it was. The words, the tune... this was the first verse of the Grand Fonic Hymn; memorable, not because just of its melody, but because of its purpose. It was a song, the song, that unified one of the major themes in a video game I knew all too well.

I stood in stunned silence, my eyes turning back to the man as I appraised him with renewed knowledge. He was... he was a priest of Daath wasn't he? The main religious faction in the game? More to the point, he sang that song, which mean that he was related to the... The what? My mind came to a blank as I struggled to remember. There was something important, something key that unified the game's plot. I wasn't quite sure what it was yet, nor was I even sure why I was so focused on trying to remember, but-

"I see." The man's voice rose up again, and pulled my attention away from my thoughts. His eyes were focused on the child from before, half-lidded as he muttered to the empty air. "So, it truly is absolute."

The child stared back, eyes confused as he watched the elder.

"At the very least, I had hoped to spare you from... This was all because..." His voice began to fade, even as concern rose up in the child. This time, the young boy rose to his feet, making his way over to the elderly man. The priest, for his part, struggled against himself, his face wincing uneasily as his words wavered between regret and fatigue. "Spare you from... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

He wept. Tears formed on the man's face, his voice barely audible as he forced himself to look at the child. But just as quickly as his tears came, they left. A tiny hand brought itself to the priest's head, the child clumsily patting the man's hair as he wore a hesitant smile. Was the child trying to calm the man? It was... usually the other way around. Either way, the gesture was enough to resonate with the man, and gradually, the priest's mouth curled into a bittersweet smile of his own, even as drained from his face.

"... Thank you. I see now why your mother named you... Why the Score named you..."

My attention fell squarely on the old man. That was a word I recognized, even if I couldn't understand why. I turned to him, waiting for him to speak, to explain more of whatever the Score was to the child... But nothing came. The man didn't speak, and the boy didn't ask. Instead, the child merely tilted his head to the side, simple confusion on his face. And in return, the priest brought his one shaking hand onto the child's head, ruffling the boy's hair even as strength began to drain from his arms.

"It's all for prosperity... It's all for prosperity..." The man's voice was growing quieter now, his eyes glazing over as he stopped focusing on the child. Instead, the priest peered beyond child, fixed on the wall behind them as he muttered that mantra. Yet, even I could feel the doubt in his voice, his eyes closing solemnly as he began to speak... something else. The air flickered to life, a sensation I immediately recognized as a burning pain began to pour into my mind. He was speaking again, speaking the same way he did the first time I heard him.

"N.D. 2002. On the broken island shall the final moments of the last child of the House Lephis. The One That Holds Compassion... will... will..." The man's voice trailed off, losing itself to darkness.

But even as his voice faded away, that searing pain did not recede. Instead, another voice echoed in my mind, this one younger and more feminine than the one that belonged to the man. And this voice burned ever brighter, blotting out the rest of my nerves as I struggled against the piercing pain, my eyes and mind threatening to split apart.

"The One That Holds Compassion will be cast into darkness, alone and afraid. The darkness shall howl, and a great beast of terrible power will make itself known. The beast will find him, and though he will cry out for help, naught but the abyss shall be his end."

The voice faded. The regret within faded along with it. Light and fire ebbed away, and my mind gradually began to settle down. Slowly, parts of my mind came to life, and I remembered what words meant. I remembered how to think, what thinking actually meant, and forced myself to bear through pain. I remembered that I could see, and my eyes finally opened, no longer shut to oblivion as I settled my the sight of the elderly priest. He silent and still. No longer breathing.

The child didn't seem to understand. Couldn't seem to understand. His earlier smile faded away as his brow furrowed upwards in worry. The boy gave the man a gentle push, trying to get the priest's attention, his motions subtle at first, before growing more and more panicked as he tried to shake the man awake. But the man did not awaken.

Instead, a baleful howl pierced through the air.

The Score.

The Score, the Score, the Score... I finally remembered what it was.

And more importantly, I finally remembered what it represented. Many things in life dealt with the struggle between fate and self-determination, whether it was an ancient myth, a vocal philosopher, or a religious dogma. And while Tales of the Abyss was none of these things-it was just a simple, enjoyable JRPG game-it too had chosen to address that topic.

The Score was destiny made manifest, at least in the context of the game. The world religion advocated it, the people of the world followed it, and the events it detailed followed the people. It was... It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, I believe, and a thematic discussion on the true nature of making choices. But, in spite of that, it was not wrong. The reason why people followed it is because the events it portrayed were always spoken with an inescapable clarity, and so long as people followed that Score, it would never be wrong.

Until the events of the game, where Villain... the villain... He did something. But what?

Whatever. That's not important. What's important is that, even if it was just a prophecy, it was still a prophecy, and that meant that whatever had howled earlier will eventually make its way over here. My attention focus turned away from the fallen priest and sullen child, shifting instead to the direction where the sound had come from. It was there that I saw a massive hole in the wall, where part of the building had completely collapsed, exposing the room to the raging elements.

And while I was no Engineer I still understood the consequences of having a massive hole in the wall, at least when it came to shelter and stability.

Regardless, if I wanted to help the kid, the first order of business would've been to block off that hole. And I definitely want to help the kid, because leaving a child to die is morally wrong. Without another word, I took a step forward, making my way ove-

I stopped. Not because there was something in my way, but because I couldn't feel the ground. The moment I realized that, my gaze turned downwards, as I tried to figure out why my feet hadn't landed on anything solid, as well as why I hadn't fallen over as a result. Rather than anything sensible however, all I found was emptiness. And by that, I mean that I had found myself staring at nothing where my feet and legs should've been.

Immediately, I turned my attention to the rest of my body. No torso. No chest. I brought an arm up, or at least tried to, only to find myself staring at nothing again. No hands, no fingers... Yet, despite the lack of a physical body, I still felt like I had a body. I think? I mean, I could still turn my head, and my eyes still... blinked...

No. No I couldn't, and no they didn't. I was just unconsciously fulfilling in for those actions: I didn't turn my head, my attention just shifted away from one part of my environment to another; I didn't blink my eyes, I just stopped seeing for a bit.

I had no idea what this meant. I turned back to the child, wondering if perhaps he could provide some answers. Of course, that's a stupid thought, since the child himself was probably only 5 years old or something like that. More importantly, the child was still shaking the old man's body, trying to get him to wake up.

I tried to speak out, to tell the boy to leave him, but I could not speak. I ran over to the child and tried to pull him away, but I could not grab him. I tried to look around, to see if there was anyone else who could help the two, but I found nothing.

Instead, I was forced to sit and watch as the child continued with his actions in vain. He kept trying to wake the corpse, and corpse refused to budge. Rain fell, descending through the hole in the ceiling, splattering on the child and the body as blood seeped out into the waters.

The child didn't give up. Instead, he leaned down and tried to pick up the man. He didn't succeed, of course, since he was just a kid, but he made the gestures all the same. Pull, tug, drag, only to stop when he realized that the body was moving him more than he was moving the body. Then he'd readjust the man's robes, stare blankly at the blood for a few moments, before trying to move the man again. It was a futility that had lasted for five minutes. It would've gone on for longer, but...

Another howl filled the room. This time, the source was far closer, and both the boy and myself turned to the source.

There, perched on the ruins of a shattered wall, was large wolf creature. I wasn't quite sure what it was exactly, but I still remembered enough about the game to know that it had monsters. And since the wolf creature wasn't wearing a search-and-rescue vest, I'm all but certain this was a monster.

"H-...ah... Ah! Help!"
Don't shout!

The child's voice rose up in panic, screaming to the air as he frantically searched around. The sudden cry was piercing, and immediately drew a response from the wolf monster, as it crouched downwards on all fours, baring its fangs at the young boy. Unfortunately, the child didn't notice the warning, his voice rising louder as he continued to yell. Damnit kid, do you seriously have no survival instinct? Why the hell were you screaming your head off when th-

I finally realized what the child was yell. More than that, I saw the panic in the child's voice as he shouted towards the corpse, his efforts redoubled as he tried to pull up the dead man. Every so often, he'd scream for help, but the words that truly carried the most force behind them were not cries for help, but...

"Up! You haf get up! Please!"
Leave him!

It was heartwrenching to watch. It was clear that the child knew he was in danger, since he kept fearfully looking at the wolf... But rather than try to run, the boy stood his ground, his body shaking in fear even as he shouted out for help, all while he continued to vainly pull at the corpse's sleeve.

I had to do something... but what? The child ignored my words no matter how loudly I yelled, and it wasn't like I could fight off the wolf, either.

... Could I?

I had no body, but it still felt like I had arms. And just because my words didn't reach the child didn't necessarily mean that I couldn't interact with the rest of the world. I had doubted my words from the start, but this sensation... I clenched my unseen fists. Slow, I began to search the room, trying to find something useful, something to use against a monster-wolf. That's when I noticed that we were in a kitchen, as broken counters and toppled cabinets littered the ground. More to the point, that's when I saw a host of perfectly usable metal implements that I hadn't noticed before.

Good enough!

Without wasting another moment, I reached out for a discarded pan, trying to grab at the cast-iron tool despite my lack of physical body. I approached the- No, I used my feet and ran to the spot where the pan was. I looked down at it with my eyes, bending over as I reached out to it, my arm drawing closer as I grabbed the makeshift weapon.

... No.

Willpower alone could not change facts.

Despite my wishes, I could not pick it up. I stared at the pan for a few moments longer, my mind blank as the reality of my situation sunk in. If I couldn't pick it up, then what did that mean? What was-

"Please!"

A pained voice brought me back to my senses, and my eyes darted back to the child. Despite the impossibility of his task, the young boy kept on trying to save the dead priest, pulling harder at the corpse as he continued screaming to the night air. In response, the wolf growled once more, its voice far more threatening as it rose up to its haunches. My blood chilled for a moment, but thankfully, the beast didn't charge. Not yet.

Instead, it howled. And in the distance, a dozen more voices howled in concert.

Damnit. Why couldn't the child just run away?

I'd understand if this was just someone unconscious or something, but this man was dead; the broken plank in his chest was proof enough of that. Yet, the kid did not relent, still tugging at the man's sleeve without regard. If only he just... But he couldn't. The child either couldn't accept that the man was dead, or... couldn't tell the difference.

Because he was a child. And yet, in spite of that, and in spite of being a child, the kid still threw away all caution and instinct. Even though he recognized and knew that he was in danger, the child abandoned his senses, all because he wanted to help save the fallen priest.

... Hey. This was Tales of the Abyss, right? That means video game logic applies, right? More to the point, normal logic doesn't, so there's no reason for me to give up, even if things seem impossible, right?

I turned my attention back to the pan.

If the child wasn't going to give up, then I had no reason to either. The child, young as he may be, made a conscious effort to help another person without regard for his own safety. On the other hand, I don't even have a body to put in harm's way, so what the hell am I doing hesitating? Without another word, I turned back to the...

That's when I noticed that the priest had not been unarmed.

Yeah, that makes sense. He was a priest, and in this world of monsters and magic, he would obviously have to have a weapon. Beside the fallen body was a staff, and one that would serve far better than some simple pan. The shaft of the weapon was solid wood of some kind, and the tip of the weapon was closer to a metallic spear than a staff head. The spear was... hollow, for lack of better word, and a strange red sphere hovered in the center of it, cementing the world as a fantasy world.

I made my way over to the staff, even as the child continued to cry out into the air. The wolf-no, wolves-drew closer, spurred on by the growing anxiety of the child. There was no other way around it: I had to use this staff. It had to work. I leaned down once again, lowering my non-existent body to the weapon as I prepared to grab the spear. I paused for just a moment, my eyes turning to the corpse as I spoke out, despite being unable to speak out.

I'm borrowing this. I had to. I needed to. The child was misguided by his lack of knowledge, but had wanted to protect the priest all the same. The priest had been misguided by the Score, but had wanted to protect the child all the same. I was not misguided by anything, and I needed to protect all the same.

A charge filled the air. A feeling of surprise, then relief poured out from the charge. I recognized both the emotion, and the charge itself, my eyes widening as I stared at the corpse. No, the priest. And as I stared at the priest, the empty air around him stared back, smiling without smiling as I felt a nod. I turned back to the spear, my hand reaching out for the weapon. I would fight, and I wo-

"P-please! Mister! Help!"

Mister? I froze, turning to the child. Who was he talking about? Hadn't the score said that no one would be here? If another person was here, then... then maybe... But when I turned to the child, all I saw were cerulean eyes staring back at me, the child's face filled with hope and relief.

"Please, you have to help him!"

The child turned towards the corpse, one hand pointed to the fallen body as his other hand gripped at my arm.

At that moment, everything went white, a searing pain engulfing my mind and vision as all ceased to be.

I don't know how long it took for the pain to subside, but eventually, it did. And when it did, my mind lived again, my thoughts coming alight as I remembered what just happened. Immediately, I rose up, trying to find the child as... As...

Why was it day? I thought it was nighttime. It was definitely night the last time I check, what with the dark storms and ominous clouds. Yet, for whatever reason, the sky was clear and blue, not a hint of the previous situation in sight as the sun shone down at me. The light was blinding, but its presence allowed me to take note of something else. Something far more worrying.

I wasn't in the kitchen anymore. Instead, I was in some field somewhere, at the edge of some nondescript woods, sitting in a muddied ditch. It wasn't that big, all things considered, but the very presence of the ditch was enough to bring questions to mind. Where was I? What had happened to the child? Why were the edges of the ditch perfectly smooth? And... Why did my everything hurt?

"Ugh..." A groan of pain rose up, and almost immediately, my eyes widened. Elation rose up in my chest as I recognized the young child's voice. Ignoring my own pain, I shifted my attention to the source, my head turning over to... Wait, where exactly did that voice come from? Despite the clarity of the voice, I wasn't actually able to pick out the direction it came from.

And as I looked around, all I saw was the sight of fields, forest, and ditch. Huh.

Maybe I should try calling out to him? I mean, it's not like I had any other option or anything. Besides, he had somehow spotted me, and was able to poke at my arm, so maybe he'd be able to hear me too. Here goes nothing.

"Hey! Are you-"

The moment I spoke, I stopped. Whatever positive emotion I had faded away, and I felt my heart stop. Slowly, I turned my eyes downward, trying to quell that unease that rose up inside me. But my vision caught sight of the child's hands, and the dark feeling in my stomach grew.

"No..."

I... I didn't know what to say. The moment I saw his arms, I knew that things had turned out horribly. Yet, I couldn't understand how, let alone why; all I could do was mutter in disbelief, my voice heavy with regret and despair as I stared at his hands.

That's not quite right. It wasn't my voice.

I collapsed, my legs no longer willing to support me as I dropped into the ditch. Almost instinctively, my arms wrapped around my knees very much in the fetal position as I began to shudder. I felt my heart pulse, the pace growing faster and more oppressive as I clung to myself. A burning pain grew in my throat, and I forced myself to swallow it back down, a chill rising up my spine and nerves as I shook against the dirt. I clenched my eyes, closing myself to the world as I tried to blind myself, even as my breathing began to hitch.

... Are you there?

I sent my question to the darkness. No response came. Instead, all I felt was an oppressive sensation of guilt, my vision cast downwards as I stared at the dirt. Slowly, memories filled my thoughts, familiar words burning themselves into me as my eyes gazed blankly. His voice... no, my voice now... echoed out.

"And though he will cry out for help, naught but the abyss shall be his end."

It burned.

A/N: I'll be brief. This story was created for NaNoWriMo, in order to enforce a better writing routine. As such, for the month of November, this shall be the only story I'll be putting out. It was also created to explore writing in first-person narrative, as well as the problems that may arise in stories that feature a self-insert. So yeah, this note is here just so people know what this story will ultimately be.