Disclaimer: I do not, by any means own any of the characters, places or anything from Tales of Symphonia. It is all belong to Namco, or whoever owns them. You lucky sods.

Author's Notes: Well, here it is: the first chapter of my first fanfic. Heheh, it's about time. So this is about the legendary heroes, as the terrible summary explained. And frankly, it's not my best work, but it'll do. It's an okay start (with a terribly lame ending, I might add, excuse me). Hopefully, (knock on wood) it will get better as it progresses…in fact, I know it will. But anyway, that's beside the point. I was kind of surprised when I wrote this, that I was writing from Yuan's perspective instead of Kratos' (who's point of view I had originally decided to write from), but I don't know if that will keep up. We'll have to see…But I can say for certain that I had to write a couple different types of Yuan before I actually got it out making sense. He was a dumb-ass, then an evil guy who wanted to chuck people out windows…then he's like…well, like Yuan. Though I can imagine Kratos will be much easier to write. Well…maybe I shouldn't jinx myself. Never mind.

Wow, if I don't stop writing this, soon the whole fanfic will be my author's note. That would be terrible. So, here you have it. Enjoy, and don't forget to chuck me a review. I will be forever grateful.

Until we meet again…

Shattering Peace:

Prologue:

Four thousand years ago was the closest to peace that the world of Aselia had ever seen. Almost on the brink of utopia, it wavered. The pieces that moved upon its surface, the people whose childish hands held Aselia's fate, began to toy with the gentle balance unwittingly. And by something so small and trivial, the scales tipped, and the whole world fell into chaos.

And therein begins our story.

------

Chapter One:

A Graceful Lack of Tact

"For Kharlan's sake, Martel, slow down!"

The blonde half-elf giggled, and slowed to a walk from her headlong sprint in the wheat field. Trailing her hand over the tops of the grasses, she hummed cheerfully, her blue eyes glimmering in the light of the slowly setting sun.

The person who had hailed her, a blue-haired half-elf, was trudging behind her wearily, doing his best to catch up, with what little strength he had left. His quarry was making this easier for him by slowing down considerably, stopping every now and then to examine the occasional flower hidden in the wheat.

"Martel," the blue-haired half-elf panted, finally catching up to her. "You…run…too…fast."

"You're just too slow!" she said happily, skipping ahead a couple of paces. She stopped and turned to face him, a smile lighting her face. "Why Yuan, you look like you've been running all day!"

Yuan laughed weakly. "I have," he said. "Running after you."

She laughed as well.

"But why run?" she said, opening her arms. "I'm right here!"

"Always ten steps in front of me," Yuan said, but he couldn't help but smile at her.

Martel let her arms drop by her sides, and she turned away from him.

"Oh, come on, Martel," Yuan said, knowing exactly what kind of card she was trying to pull (she did this every time). "I didn't mean it that way!"

She said nothing, just stood stationary, her fair head bowed.

"Martel," Yuan said, taking advantage of her absence of movement to catch up with her. "You know what I meant."

"You're so cruel, Yuan."

Even though he knew she was joking, her words seemed to send a knife through his heart. No…he could never be cruel to her.

"Martel…" he said, now no more than two yards behind her. "Don't say that."

She said nothing to this, only stayed where she was, enabling Yuan to walk up directly behind her and grab her arms.

"There!" he said triumphantly. "Gotcha!"

"No!" Martel shrieked happily, struggling to free herself from his grip, but he held fast.

"Ha-ha!" Yuan said, hugging her to him. "I've got you now, Martel, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Actually, there was a great range of unpleasant things she could do to him to free herself, but Yuan was desperately hoping she was in a good mood and liked him enough to refrain from doing them.

"I've been captured!" she squealed, still trying to half-heartedly free herself. "Oh, please, sir, don't take me away! Leave me here so that I may enjoy this beautiful sunset!"

"On one condition!" Yuan said.

"And what is that?"

He leaned down and whispered something in her ear:

"That I may enjoy it with you."

"We are not…interrupting anything, are we?"

Immediately, Yuan let go of Martel and they both wheeled around to see who it was. He felt a great deal of embarrassment wash over him as he saw the burgundy-haired swordsman, standing with his arms crossed across his chest and a slight smirk at his lips, but even more so when he saw the small, ten-year-old half-elf, a spitting image of his older sister. Whom he had just been hugging.

"Kratos! M-Mithos!" he said breathlessly, hoping it was dark enough that they couldn't see the odd contrast between his blue hair and undoubtedly scarlet face. "What…how you here?"

He saw Kratos raise an eyebrow amusedly.

"How we here?" he repeated. "We are here, Yuan, because Master Mithos has just concluded his lesson for today. And you?"

"Me? Well, I was…er, that is…um…"

"Mithos!" Martel said, gracefully ignoring Yuan and the whole situation. She approached and embraced her younger brother. "How are you? Were you good for Mister Kratos today?"

"Martel, I'm not a kid…" Mithos muttered, but he looked pleased at the hug all the same.

"Master Mithos is indeed progressing admirably," Kratos said, now also ignoring the blustering Yuan. "It will not be long before he will be skilled in the way of swordsmanship."

"That's great!" Yuan said, rather louder than necessary. "Well, if you ever want to practice, Mithos, I'll duel you any time!"

The look that the boy gave him was probably the most withering, contemptuous look that any creature could give another. It was hard to believe that he was only ten. Yuan swallowed and tried not to break eye contact with the kid. Reluctantly, a simpering grin came to Mithos' face.

"Sure," he said through his sneer. "Thanks."

For some reason, Yuan found himself incapable of speech. He nodded fervently instead.

"…Okay!" Martel said cheerfully, breaking the awkward silence. She ruffled her brother's hair. "Come on, let's go back. We'll be lucky to make it back before dark!"

As Mithos turned to his sister, his entire expression changed. His face softened and a genuine smile lit his face.

"Okay!" he said, and he became normal again. "I'll race you, Martel!"

She laughed, and soon the blonde half-elves were speeding along ahead of Kratos and Yuan. Yuan let out a long breath.

"Do not be troubled by his attitude, Yuan," Kratos said before Yuan could say anything. "Miss Martel is the only person he has."

"Yeah," said Yuan, shaking his head resignedly. "I know." He laughed weakly. "He really does hate me, doesn't he?"

Kratos laughed too.

"Yes," he said, not bothering to cushion his words at all.

"But what did I…no, never mind, don't answer that, Kratos."

"I'm glad you reconsidered."

Yuan laughed sheepishly again. Yes, there were many things that Mithos could hate him for. Namely for, well…it was obvious, wasn't it?

"Come on," Kratos said. "As Martel so rightly pointed out, we will be lucky to make it back to Heimdall before dark."

"Yeah," Yuan said absently. "Let's go."

They talked little as they made their way across the wheat field, but Yuan already felt a little better. He liked Kratos; he was the kind of person who never really said anything, but when he did, it was worth listening to. Yuan wished most people were like that. In his opinion, people always seemed to waste their words on stupid stuff that didn't really matter. But Kratos seemed to think through everything before he said it, and Yuan appreciated that. That, and the fact that he always made him better when Martel's little brother stared him down.

"Took you long enough," Mithos said when they approached. Yuan glanced at Kratos, who just smiled genially at the half-elf.

"Now, Mithos," Martel said reprovingly. "That's not very nice!"

"It's all right," Yuan said, trying to ignore the penetrating glare that Mithos was shooting him. "Kratos here's just slow. Must be his old age."

Kratos raised an eyebrow at Yuan, but didn't say anything.

"You're not much younger than him, I might remind you," Martel said, winking at him.

"No," Mithos said, not removing his chilling glower from Yuan. "Yuan's just trying to place the blame on somebody else. As usual."

"I…" Yuan felt himself flush again. What was with this kid!

"Mithos!" Martel said sharply. "That's not nice! Apologize this instant!"

"N-no, it's all right, Martel, I—"

"No, I'm sorry," Mithos said, the sneer coming back to him, and speaking so sardonically it wasn't even funny. "I guess I'm just tired that's all. Can we go back now? I want to go home."

He feigned a smile, then turned and walked away into the woods. Martel sighed resignedly.

"I'm sorry, Yuan," she said quietly. "He really hasn't been himself lately."

"Don't worry about it," Yuan said, trying to be cheerful, brushing away her apology with his hand. "He's just a kid."

"But he shouldn't speak like that," Martel said sadly. "I'll speak with him, I promise. Won't you be dining with us tonight, Mister Kratos? We would truly enjoy your company."

Kratos smiled, and briefly bowed.

"It would be an honor," he said.

Martel beamed at him.

"Wonderful!" she said happily, clapping her hands together in the girlish, child-like manner that she never had grown out of. "I will go prepare dinner at once then!"

Winking once again at Yuan, she turned and followed her brother's path into the woods.

Yuan sighed as he watched her go. Always ten steps ahead of him…

"Kratos," he said suddenly to the swordsman standing beside him.

"Yes?"

"…What am I supposed to do!"

He turned, dismayed towards his comrade, who he found was trying not to laugh.

"I am afraid I am not the one you should consult on this matter," Kratos said, his mouth still twisted with hidden laughter.

"Don't even try that. You've been alive longer than I have…"

"Four years is hardly a difference, Yuan."

"Better than nothing. What am I supposed to do, Kratos! Is this just impossible!"

Kratos raised his eyebrow.

"Nothing is impossible," he said slowly.

"But this is damn close, isn't it?"

Kratos sighed, and placed a hand on Yuan's shoulder.

"No," he said. "But I suggest you gain some tact when it comes to Master Mithos."

"Tact? What do you mean, 'tact'! I have tact! I have loads of tact!"

"I mean, you seem too cavalier when it comes to showing your…affection towards Miss Martel. Master Mithos is only a child, and therefore sees your situation as you trying to steal his sister from him. Any person would get defensive in such a sensitive matter as this one."

Yuan said nothing to this.

"Practice some caution and patience with this matter," Kratos continued. "Give things time to fall into place and they will. In the meantime, treat Master Mithos with kindness, and try to be sparing with your outward adoration towards Miss Martel in his presence."

Silence followed his words for awhile as Yuan stared at the ground, thinking all of this through. Finally, he spoke.

"Oh, Kharlan help me…I have no tact."

Kratos laughed as Yuan buried his face in his hands.

"Patience, friend," Kratos said, releasing Yuan's shoulder, and turning to walk the well-worn path toward the village. "Soon enough, things will change you your liking."

"But…but how do you know all this, Kratos!" Yuan said, following the swordsman, speeding up to catch up with him. "It…makes perfect sense when you say it, but how—"

Kratos shrugged, and Yuan sighed.

"It amazes me that you don't have any one," Yuan said, shaking his head in disbelief, causing his blue hair to flop about. "I mean…you know far more than people like me…"

"Nonsense, Yuan."

"…And if you only wanted it, women would be flinging themselves at you," he said. "By the wagon-load. I'm sure they already do."

Kratos laughed softly.

"No," he said. "Although that would be rather awkward."

Yuan sighed helplessly.

"Fine," he said. "I understand. You must have your reasons. As you always do."

"Decisions usually are based on reasons, yes."

"Reasons, but not reason. Right?"

"Only if a person follows your train of thought."

"What was it you were saying about tact?"

"Touché. My apologies."

"Oh, don't you apologize, Kratos," Yuan said. "We're all in trouble if you start apologizing. No, there'll be enough of that tonight when I talk to Mithos. Oh, Kharlan help me…"

------

When they reached the elven village of Heimdall, it was already dark, and the watchmen were patrolling the boarder, each holding a small lamp to illuminate their path.

"Who goes there?" one called as Kratos and Yuan approached.

"It's me!" Yuan called back. He heard one of the guards sigh.

"You're late again, Yuan!" the guard called.

"Sorry!"

"You know, by all my rights, I should let you spend the night outside the village."

"But you've already done that!" Yuan said, recalling the incident with particular vividness. He stopped in front of the guard and seriously hoped he was in a good mood.

"Rules are rules," the guard said to him, crossing his arms stubbornly. "No entry after nightfall. You know that, and so do I."

"But," Yuan pleaded desperately, not at all keen on spending the night outside again (it was getting colder and he wanted his food). "But…come on…"

"My apologies for him," Kratos said, finally speaking up and moving out of the gloom and into the lamplight.

"Oh, Mister Kratos!" the guard said, lifting his lamp to get a better look at him. "What a pleasant surprise! I'm sorry, I didn't see you back there!"

"Not at all," Kratos said, bowing slightly. "I apologize for not returning Yuan before dark, but there was an important matter that I needed to attend to that took longer than expected, and he was good enough to help me…"

"I understand," the guard said, nodding. He stepped out of the way. "Well, you're lucky today, Yuan. Just don't make this a habit, all right?"

"Of course," Kratos said, nodding, pushing Yuan ahead of him, through the gate of the city. "Thank you for your leniency."

The guard nodded briefly, then continued his patrol.

"…Thanks," Yuan said, breathing a sigh of relief after he was safely away from the gate. "I thought I was going to have to spend tonight outside."

"No need for thanks," Kratos said. "I am hungry, and Miss Martel seems to possess a gift for cooking. And from what I gather, she does not cook outside the gate."

"Ah, who needs friendship when you have food?"

"Indeed."

"There you two are! I was beginning to worry!"

Yuan looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he caught sight of Martel, standing in the doorway of her house.

"Hello!" he said, raising his hand in greeting. "Sorry we're late!"

"Come in, come in!" she said, ushering them inside the house. "Dinner will get cold!"

Yuan blessed the warmth and light that washed over him as he entered Martel's house. It was a nice house, cozy and made of wood, along with most all the furniture inside of it. A stone fireplace was built at one end, in the kitchen, while a small, wooden table and chairs stood on the other side. Several other small rooms branched off from the main room: Martel's and Mithos' bedroom and a small bathroom. The house wasn't big, but to Yuan, at least, it was perfect.

"Hello, Mithos!" Yuan said cheerfully, taking Kratos' advice. The small half-elf looked up from where he was, setting the table, his face molding to a scowl as soon as he saw Yuan.

"…Hello," he said icily, obviously trying the same thing as Yuan was but with less effect.

"Good evening, Master Mithos," Kratos said as he entered and Martel shut the door after him.

"Hello!" Mithos said happily, mood instantly changing as he caught sight of Kratos. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, and yourself?"

"Good, thanks for asking!"

With a brief, patronizing glare at Yuan, Mithos continued to set the table.

Figures, Yuan thought, a grin still plastered to his face. Kratos gets the royal treatment, and I'm treated like dog shit. But that's okay…that's okay, because Kratos is right…Mithos just is…is jealous…well sorry, kid, but this is just something we have to work through… He took a deep breath and fixed the grin a bit more convincingly on his face. He could do this. He wouldn't let a little ten-year-old get the best of him.

"So," Mithos said. "Why aren't you sleeping outside the city again, Yuan?"

"Mithos," Martel said warningly from the kitchen.

"What, I'm just asking!" Mithos said.

"It's okay, Martel," Yuan said in a voice he thought was pleasant enough. "It's because Kratos was nice enough to speak on my behalf. That, and the guard was in a good mood." See, Mithos? he thought. Look, I'm trying to be nice. Will you try to be nice too?

"Oh," Mithos said. "So, in other words, you made someone else get you in because you couldn't get in yourself? Figures."

Kharlan damn it, you stupid little brat, one more word and so help me…

"Mithos!" Martel said sharply, rounding on her brother. "What did we just talk about! I told you to be nice!"

"I am being nice," Mithos protested, finishing setting the table. "I'm engaging in conversation."

"It's not nice conversation," Martel said. "You're insulting our guests! And you're shaming me, Mithos!"

That was it. Immediately, Mithos dismounted from his high horse and looked down at his hands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled quickly, and he really did sound it. "I'm sorry Yuan, I'm sorry Mister Kratos. …I'm sorry, Sis."

"It's all right," said Martel. "Just don't do it again, okay?" Mithos nodded, still staring ashamedly at his hands. "Please excuse him," she added in an undertone to Yuan and Kratos.

Kratos made a gesture dismissing her apology and Yuan muttered, "'S all right."

"Anyway," Martel said. "Why don't we eat? The food will get cold."

"Yeah," Yuan said, and Kratos nodded solemnly as he liked to do. "It smells great."

"Thank you!" Martel said warmly, herself again. "Mithos, would you come help bring food to the table? No, Yuan, Kratos, you sit down. You are our guests! Right, Mithos?"

Mithos nodded mutely, and Martel ruffled his hair fondly. He looked up at her and she beamed at him, and winked. Yuan found himself smiling too. Good, he thought. The kid can be humbled. He really wasn't fighting a losing battle. Maybe they'd reach an understanding one day. They did have one great thing in common: they both loved Martel.

…

Wait…

…

They both…what Martel!

…

Obviously Mithos did but…surely this wasn't…he didn't…

…

Oh, Kharlan help him, he did.

"Anything wrong?"

Yuan looked up at Kratos, his eyes wide and horrified as he realized the significance and truth of what he had just thought.

"You have no idea," he said, covering his eyes with his hands.